Until Cece (Happily Ever Alpha World)

“Of course you don’t. You never mind doing it all.” She rolls her eyes, and it my stomach sinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes, wondering where this hostility is coming from.

“You let him off the hook for everything, Cece. He sees the girls one day a week. One.” She holds up a wobbly finger, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol. “I get that he works, but you work too, and you’re going to school. It’s not fair that it all falls on you.”

“You’re right,” I agree, hoping to pacify her so she’ll change the subject. I don’t like talking about personal things with even the closest people in my life, much less strangers. “I just don’t want to rock the boat right now.” I’m going through too much without having to worry about him coming back and changing his mind about the offer dealing with the house and alimony.

“So when are you going to rock the boat?” she asks, her tone almost accusing, and it makes my hackles rise.

“I don’t know,” I finally snap, aggravated she’s interrogating me in front of these women I just met. “Is that what you want me to say?”

“No!” she cries. “I want my sister to grow a damn backbone and demand the man she had kids with to step up and take care of his responsibilities more than one day a fricking week.”

My face heats with embarrassment. I just don’t know whether it’s because she’s saying all this in front of people, or if it’s because I’m mortified that she’s 100 percent right. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“No, Cece, you’re doing it fucking all and letting Mike do whatever the hell he wants, when he’s the one who should be tying himself in knots to make sure you and his girls are happy, regardless if you’re together or not.” She stands, looking around the circle of women, who instead of looking awkward are rapt at the drama unfolding before them. “Sorry,” she tells them. “I’m going in to see if the guys need help.”

When she’s inside, I slowly turn back to look at the others. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “It’s been… a rough year.”

“I’m sorry too,” November says. “I didn’t know bringing up your girls would be such a sensitive subject.”

I shake my head. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s just… a mess. Not just my house. My whole life is a mess.” I close my eyes and breathe out, the tequila making me a little dizzy, so I open them again.

“No, ma’am!” Sophie barks from across the firepit, and I jump, looking at her wide-eyed. “We aren’t doing that anymore. After all that’s happened to you, there is no more woe is me or feeling sorry for yourself. You have three babies you’ve gotta pull yourself together for. And you may have been doing it alone before, or had just your sister. But now, you have the fucking Maysons.” She growls out the name and then hiccups, and although I let out a little squeak of laughter from the sheer shock of being put in my place by this woman who had otherwise been nothing but quiet and sweet, her words hit home.

November nods vigorously. “Yeah, honey. I agree. I may not know the whole story, but from what Asher told me about your ex that night at the restaurant, and from what I’ve heard here, you’ve gotta start putting your foot down when it comes to those girls of yours. I totally get not wanting to rock the boat, as you said. But you also can’t just lie down and take it. There comes a point where you have to stop putting yourself last. And you also have to remember… those little girls will be young women soon, and they’re watching. They’re watching, observing, and taking everything in. And it’s your job as their mother to lead by example. What’s… what’s one of their names? Pearl?” she prompts, her hand in the air opening and closing as if she’s trying to grab the answer out of the air, her words slightly slurred but no less meaningful.

“Ruby,” I correct her.

“Ruby! What if Ruby was in this situation, and she had a douchebag baby daddy who only took care of their kid one night a week while she did every damn thing else herself? What would you want her to do?”

I instantly bristle, indignation filling my chest at the hypothetical question. “I’d want her to…” I sink back in my seat as it all makes sense why my sister is so upset with me. “I’d want her to stand up for not only herself but her child. I’d tell her their kid deserves more than to feel like their dad only wants them one day a week. And I’d want her to know it wasn’t her responsibility to take care of every little thing by herself. They had that child together, not just her. So he needs to step up and get his shit together.”