Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(17)

“Why not? Play patient for a little bit, let her play nurse, see where that goes.”

“No.” I opened my eyes. “My days of trying to manipulate Scarlet into wanting me are over, they have been for a long time.”

“You mean Claire.”

“Yeah.” Once more, my gaze lost focus and I welcomed the blank void. “I guess I do mean Claire.”

I heard Dani shift, her seat creak. “You know, from one tragic love story survivor to another, may I suggest that . . . you know what? Forget it. You two never even sealed the deal and you sound just as miserable as I do. So, I don’t have any good advice. Do what you can to protect yourself as much as possible. Have realistic expectations of her, and then set them even lower. That’s all you can do.”

I felt my lips curve. “Can’t argue with that.”

“How was it seeing her?” An uncharacteristic hint of worry entered her voice. “Did she talk to you this time? Or did she do the usual running away thing?”

“She did talk to me, actually.”

“Shocking. I am shocked. Shocked.”

I finally gave my mind permission to drift and think about Scarlet’s short visit. She’d confused me. It wasn’t the food that confused me, or her harassing me into eating by rocking in that damn chair. Both actions were very Scarlet-like, so were the hovering and stubbornness.

What confused me was why she’d stayed after I’d eaten, why she’d taken off my boots and covered me with a blanket, why she’d said what she did about the monsters. Why had she done it? I hated that she’d done it. I hated how hope flared at the memory, even though I knew—with her—hoping for anything was lunacy. So, yeah, I was confused. I didn’t understand her.

You don’t need to understand Scarlet. You need to let her go.

“Well? What did she say?” Dani pushed, again bringing me back to the present.

“Nothing of consequence.” The lie slipped out before I could catch it, but I let it be.

I want to stay and make sure no monsters come while you’re sleeping.

What will you do to the monsters, if they come?

You don’t want to know. Sweet dreams.

“If it’s nothing of consequence,” Dani kept on pushing, as she was prone to do, “then you should have no problem telling me.”

“Fine.” I decided to relate just the facts. “She wouldn’t leave until I ate.”

“Why didn’t you just ignore her?”

“Because she sat in this rocking chair in my room that makes incredibly annoying noises whenever it’s rocked, and she wouldn’t stop rocking until I ate her chicken soup.”

Dani sputtered a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s hilarious.”

I said nothing.

“Then what happened?” Dani pressed after I’d been quiet for a stretch.

“I ate, then she stayed and—” a bleak laugh tumbled out of me “—she watched me sleep.” I didn’t tell Dani the importance of this, or what Scarlet had said about monsters, that wasn’t for sharing. That was for us, Scarlet and me.

Vaguely, unbidden, I wondered if Scarlet still had nightmares. The thought penetrated enough of my present numbness to send a sharp ache through the center of my chest. I closed my eyes again.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about her.

Dani was likewise quiet for a while, like this time she was truly shocked, saying when she finally recovered, “She stayed and watched you sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then. I did not expect that. Yet you don’t sound too happy about this development. I mean, I thought you’d be elated. This is the woman you’ve been pining for basically your entire life.”

As usual, it was at this point I regretted confiding in Daniella Payton all those years ago, on the night of Jethro’s wedding. I didn’t usually regret that evening—us swapping our sad stories, drunk in the library of my family’s house—just whenever she asked too many questions or used words like pining.

“Anyway,” I said. Time to change the subject for good. “How are you?”

“Oh, no. I’m not finished. Why aren’t you happier about this? When she came for Christmas last year, you had all these high hopes and plans, you were going to show her that you’d grown, you were going to let her come to you.”

“And that worked so well,” I said stonily.

“Your only mistake was—”

“Loving her.”

“Noooo.” I couldn’t see Dani, but I knew she was shaking her head. “Your only mistake was—and is—still resenting her. You were—are—still mad, that she chose Ben over—”

“She chose guilt! Not Ben.” My eyes flew open and a subdued rush of fury roughened my voice. “Her great love is guilt, not Ben McClure. He was just the peddler of it, the one who got her addicted, with all his bullshit ‘saintly sacrifices.’ Scarlet is addicted to her guilt and shame and fucking self-righteous—”

“Yeeeeah. You don’t sound angry at all.”

My forehead fell to my palm. Damn. Dammit! Dani was right. I sounded pissed. I was pissed. I was still so damn angry with her.

“I’ve been telling you for years, you need to let that shit go.”