“Don’t be.” I was too far gone to even try to smile; for chrissakes, I was wearing sweats and a hoodie, but I didn’t want them worrying about me. “It’s part of the process, I guess. It’ll pass.”
Though, I was doubting. Maybe I couldn’t move on after all. Maybe I was destined to feel like crap for the rest of my life. After this week, it wouldn’t surprise me.
I grabbed my own overnight bag and tossed it into the back of the truck.
Halloween was in the air, and I wasn’t feeling it. We had the Halloween party at the estate tomorrow, I had costume festivities planned for my students for next week, then actual Halloween at the end of the month. And as if that wasn’t enough, I’d had dinner with Colt, Lucas, and Kit twice this week, and they were preparing for a vacation to Seattle, where they’d attend another Halloween party with friends.
I’d been exposed to too many party plans and lovey-dovey shit.
Lucas joined us a minute later, and it was time to go.
Colt wasn’t tagging along this weekend. He was gearing up for a training mission or something. As a semi-retired fighter pilot in the Air Force, he was the biggest hero to Kit, who could ramble a mile a minute about planes and whatnot. He’d lost me more than once. But I’d gathered that Colt was heading down to Langley Air Force Base soon, and he was going to help train new pilots.
“Daddy, I’ll sit in the back with Tate,” Kit informed Lucas.
“That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” Lucas got in behind the wheel and sent me a look of sympathy in the rearview.
Ugh. I yanked up the hood again and buckled in.
This weekend was going to suck.
On our way out of Georgetown, Lucas put on music, and Kit reminded him twice not to forget we had to stop by the “good candy store.”
“I won’t forget, dear,” Lucas responded patiently.
I looked out the window. It was gonna rain, which suited my mood perfectly.
Fuck, I was gonna get a huge bag of candy too. And I wasn’t much for candy normally. But perhaps a truckload of sugar would help.
“How was your dinner with Shay yesterday?” Kit asked conversationally.
“Fucking awful,” I blurted out. I didn’t wanna think about it for a second. It’d been so bad that I couldn’t sugarcoat it. “He spent three hours asking me about Kingsley.” It’d definitely pushed this week right up there on the top five of the worst weeks ever. “How we met, when I knew I loved him, our first vacation—I swear, the kid dragged every memory out of me.”
I hadn’t known Shay that long, far from it, and he had just gotten together with River and Reese this summer, so I was sure a lot was going on. We were still getting to know each other, and he was balls deep in falling in love. I assumed that was why he’d asked me so many questions about it. To figure out his own feelings, to learn about me. He was a nice guy, a bit rough around the edges but kind; it was why I hadn’t begged him to change the topic.
I caught Lucas looking all pensive in the rearview, and he spoke up as we hit the Beltway.
“You met up for Chinese, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yeah.” The food had been good, but it’d served as another reminder of my relationship. Lee and I used to bring Chinese with us out to the estate for weekend events. It’d become a thing, not just for us, but for friends who found it funny. Before an event, Lee and I would sit on the patio or in the kitchen and chow down. We’d bring enough to have it for breakfast the morning after too. And we always got extra fortune cookies because we were dorks who loved reading the cheesy fortunes.
Lucas hummed. “Ivy and Kingsley had Chinese yesterday too.”
I cocked a brow.
He offered a wry little smirk. “I think you can figure that one out, kid.”
Kit gasped. “Are they in cahoots, Daddy? Ivy and Shay?”
They better fucking not be!
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Lucas replied.
What would even be the goal? To make us miserable? I couldn’t speak for Lee, but Shay had succeeded with me. Christ. What a dick.
“Listen, Tate,” Lucas went on a gentler tone. “We’ve watched you struggle these past few months, and Colt and I want you to know you don’t have to be so strong all the time. You used to be a lot more…little, for lack of a better word—”
“I’m not a Little.” I frowned.
“No, I know.” He was quick to agree. “But you also wouldn’t have referred to Shay as a kid a few months ago. You’re practically the same age.” Was not. I was thirty years old! He was only twenty-five or something. “My point is, you don’t have to act older than you are. You have friends you can lean on—Colt and I are two of them. We’re here for you, okay?”