Between Commitment and Betrayal (Hardy Billionaire Brothers, #1)(82)

“No, he won’t, and you shouldn’t either.” She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. “I wish you both would have been given a shot at a relationship outside of the marriage. You would have worked beautifully, I think.”

I took a big bite of the sandwich so as not to respond, but I shook my head no. We’d never have worked. He’d disliked me and my lack of credentials on sight.

“I saw the way he looked at you before our father passed.” She did that now, called him our dad instead of hers, and I appreciated how it warmed my soul to be bound to her even in that way. “He liked you.”

“I really don’t think so,” I mumbled as I kept eating.

“Who liked Evie?” Dom waltzed in and glanced at his HEAT watch before coming over for a hug.

“Clara’s imagining things.” I waved her statement off and hugged him back.

“That sounds about right.” Dom shrugged and grumbled.

“Can’t blame a girl for being optimistic.” She didn’t say it with kindness. It held an edge, and I wasn’t sure what for.

Dom didn’t let me dig in any further as he asked, “You got a ton of work later today or you able to spar a few rounds?”

Taking one last bite, I jumped at the chance, pulling at one of my arms to stretch it right away. Something in me was brewing after watching Declan, and I needed a place to work it out. Dom had gotten in the ring with me before, and we’d both learned how to navigate our weaknesses and strengths. I enjoyed that about him … and that he seemed to be a watered-down version of his brother.

“I can now.” I nodded at Dom and then turned to Clara. “Make sure this comes off my HEAT tab. It was delicious.”

“It will absolutely not come off your card because this is me trying to get you to visit your stepsister. I realize maybe a lot of people let you down in the past, but I’d like to not be one of them.” She picked at a napkin on the counter, and I blushed with her words. “This bakery is safe from the media and from judgment. I hope you’ll come here more often.”

Clara was trying, so why couldn’t I make the same effort? I was allowing the past to control my future, allowing my anxiety of past relationships to taint my new ones.

I focused on dusting off my yoga pants so I didn’t end up a blubbering mess in front of both of them. “I’m definitely going to try, Clara.”

She rounded the counter and bombarded me with a hug. “Oh, and are you going to HEAT’s charity gala? Declan has to go. Be prepared—it’s a few weeks away.”

There was probably a reason he hadn’t asked me. “That’s not really my thing.”

“It’ll be fun.” She shrugged and then kissed my cheek. “And don’t let my sister’s ridiculous magazine articles get to you. We are the only ones who can define ourselves. This life. Not the one on social media, not the one in the press, and not the one in magazines. Remember that.”

Her words echoed around in my head as Dom and I made our way into the ring. And when I saw Declan walk off the elevator with Anastasia right next to him, Clara’s words clattered around and then flew out my mind altogether.

The media’s words. The magazine’s words. Even the fact that the will had been made in the first place to keep me safe from the press were each another needle to my heart. I’d gotten through a media slaughter once before on my own. I’d left town and started anew just so I didn’t push the pain onto my best friend anymore.

I could define this too, get out of this too. Me. I slammed Dom to the mat, and he wheezed before I jumped up and stalked toward Declan and Anastasia. I didn’t let her continue her conversation as she laughed and started to say something more to him, but his gaze had drifted to me storming up. “Wes intentionally had your wrist broken.”

“Um, yeah.” Anastasia popped a hip and frowned at me. “Everyone knows that. Wes is a weasel but since Declan forgave him, we know not to talk about it.” She wrinkled her nose like I’d broken an imaginary HEAT law.

“You didn’t tell me that.” I held Declan’s gaze. “You didn’t tell me you were the bigger person with him and still won the Super Bowl against his team that year.”

“It’s irrelevant what he did. We won,” he said, popping the button on one of the cuffs of his shirt and rolling it up slow. He was doing what I used to do when eyes were on me. He was acting like none of it mattered, like the process behind all of it, how he’d trained, how he’d navigated to that win wasn’t a big deal. “It may have been a fucked-up situation, but we can still make it a good one.”

“The fact that it happened still matters, Declan!” I threw up my hands. “What he did, that shouldn’t be ignored.”

“I know that, Drop. I fucking know.” His jaw worked up and down, up and down as he slowly rolled his cuffs before he murmured, “We don’t ignore it, Everly. We conquer it, knowing we’re stronger than it. If you can survive the past, you can damn sure barrel through any obstacle in the present and create a peaceful place to thrive in the future.”

I chewed at my cheek, knowing what he was saying. Knowing that he somehow wanted me to be strong enough to do the same, but I wasn’t sure I could. “Some things can’t be muscled through, Declan.” I meant it for myself, for my past bleeding into my present, for a child being pushed on us without love. For everything.