"You and me both. Each day when we walk her to that bus stop, I feel like it's still pretend, like we're just practicing to go to school. But nope, she's in kindergarten. She likes to remind me every day. She's very grown-up, you know," Clare said with a smile.
We silently dug into our muffins, and I laughed when Clare made a slight moan that bordered on erotic after she had taken her first bite. Clare was addicted to sweets, and chocolate was her ultimate weakness.
"Phil is the bomb. How can I get Logan to learn to bake like this?"
"Make him g*y, and name him Phil? I'm pretty sure that man is one of a kind."
Phil was a friend of ours who owned a cafe that Clare and I loved to eat at after our weekly yoga sessions. His muffins and pastries were orgasmic. I was fairly certain I'd asked Phil to marry me at least a dozen times now, only to be turned down each time because he was madly in love and taken.
"Yeah, you're right. But damn, if Logan could bake even half as well. That man can cook, but when he gets near sugar, bad things happen. I can't tell you how many cookies, cakes, and muffins he's burned since we've been married. He keeps trying though, being the sweet, foolish man that he is." She laughed.
I laughed with her as I picked a chocolate chip off the top of my muffin before popping it into my mouth. Letting the silence settle between us, I looked down at the wood table and drew patterns with my finger. Finally, I glanced back up at my best friend, knowing it was time —time to apologize, explain, open myself up to someone again.
"I'm so sorry, Clare. The way I acted last night was wrong. I lashed out. I was embarrassed, scared, and angry...and I took it out on everyone who was trying to help. I know you were only there because you wanted to take care of me, and I'm sorry I didn't let you do that."
"After over twenty years of friendship, I know how you react in these types of situations. I understand, Leah. I just wish you would let someone in. It doesn't even have to be me, but you do need someone to listen."
"I know. I think I understand that for the first time in my life."
"Do you want to talk about it? We don't have to. I mean, we can talk about the weather, books, that hot guy from Thor...whatever. I'm here if you want."
"Yeah." I smiled. "I think I do want to talk about it."
Over coffee and chocolate chip muffins, I finally told my best friend about my real childhood, the one that I'd hidden from her for so many years. We cried together, and she held my hand. When she asked why I'd never told her, I honestly didn't have an answer.
"I don't know, Clare. I've always been so strong, so independent. I guess a part of me thought telling someone, acknowledging it, would be admitting weakness. So, I learned how to avoid it for the most part. My childhood and teen years became a sick game of learning cues and signs of my father's drunken states so that I knew when to scatter or not come home at all."
"I just wish I had known, so we could have done something, Leah. We could have taken you away and adopted you for real. You know my mother and father would have done that in an instant. Hell, I think they even tried at one point. Had they known that, it would have been a lot easier."
"I know, and I love your parents more than I could ever put into words, but I'm stubborn as hell."
She gave me that no-shit look.
I continued, "But in the beginning, I was scared. I was scared it wouldn't work, then I'd be stuck with him anyway, and he'd be even angrier. Later on, I just figured I was almost free anyway, and I thought I could manage a few more years of dodge and weave."
She jumped from her seat and pulled me into a tight hug. "I love you, Leah. Never forget that. You are my sister, best friend, and partner in crime. Don't ever shut me out. Do you understand?"
I nodded against her shoulder, letting the tears fall freely down my cheeks. "I understand, Clare Bear."
"Good, because finding a new best friend would be really hard work, and I'm just too lazy for that," she said through sniffles. "Besides, you were with me when I bought my first vibrator. A bond like that is deep and unbreakable."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. The sobs and laughs mingled together as we held each other in her kitchen.
She pulled back and looked at me with devilish green eyes. "So, what's up with you and Declan? Because what I saw last night was anything but casual."
I sighed as I sat back in my chair, resuming the demolishment of my muffin. "I have no f**king clue. One minute, we're super casual, and the next, we've blown past all other stages and landed on super intense. He makes me feel things I am too scared to admit. Loving him could complete me or destroy me. If I were to give myself to him and he left like Daniel, I don't think I'd ever recover."
"You know Declan is not Daniel, right?"
"No, he's not. He's a famous super-hot actor. That doesn't make it any better." I snorted.
"Daniel was a dillhole, plain and simple. When someone loves you, he stays —even when things get hard. When Ethan got sick and we all gathered together to take care of him, Daniel bailed. That shows you right there that he wasn't in it for the long haul. You can't assume Declan would do the same."
"You can't assume he wouldn't."
"Pessimistic much?" she asked.
"I like my glass half-empty, thank you very much."
"Well, I just don't want you to walk away from what could be the best thing of your life. Don't run away from love just because you've been hurt before."
"Love? I didn't say I loved him," I deflected. "Besides, isn't it a bit early for that?"
"Someone very wise once told me that there's no time restriction on love," she said with a wink.
"Very slick, using my own words against me. That's kind of evil."
"I learned from the best."
Chapter Twelve
~Declan~
I'd been driving by Leah's father's house every day for the last week, making sure he didn't come back. The bastard didn't even bother closing up the house. He'd just hit the road, leaving the house wide-open to anyone who might pass by, including me. I'd gone in yesterday just to make sure he wasn't still there. I was being paranoid, but before I told Leah, I wanted to be sure he was gone —for good.
Could I guarantee he would never come back? No. The smartest thing would have been to file charges and have him arrested, but after that night of holding a battered and bruised Leah in my arms, I knew she would never make it through a trial against her father. It would be too much. It would have been too public with too many people asking questions. She could barely open up to Clare and me. How could we ask her to open up to an entire courtroom about the events that had haunted her for the last twenty years? I knew she would, and I knew she could if needed. Leah could do anything. She was stronger than anyone I'd ever met, but if I could keep her from pain, I would, no matter what it cost.