Feisty Red (Three Chicks Brewery #2) - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,53
leaned against the doorframe, listening to Mason’s soft snores filling the room. When the coast was clear, she’d picked him up from Maisie’s, and her sister came back to the house with them. Even now, she could hear her sisters talking in her bedroom. From the beginning, all Clara had wanted to do was protect Mason. But she’d allowed her heart to open to Sullivan again. And just like before, he was gone, and all that was left was Mason and her and her heart that was hurting tonight. Unsure of her next steps, she shut the door a little then headed for her bedroom.
The moment she entered the room, Amelia, sitting against the pillows on the headboard, asked, “Do you think Sullivan will come back?”
Clara laughed softly, closing the door a little in case Mason woke up and heard them talking. “Been dying to ask that?”
“Yes,” Amelia said with a firm nod, playing with the loose strands on the quilt on her bed. “So, do you?”
Clara pondered, feeling like she was right back where she’d been the last time. Only this time, Sullivan’s leaving felt worse. Hurt more. “I want to say yes.”
“But you don’t think that’s true?” Maisie asked from her spot on the end of the bed.
“I think it’s complicated,” Clara explained, moving to sit with them on the bed. “I think he’ll do what he thinks is right. And right now, staying away is better. He wants to protect us. That’s his nature. He did it before, and he’ll do the same thing now.”
“Ah, I see,” Maisie stated like she knew it all.
Clara felt like she knew nothing. She frowned at her youngest sister. “Ah, I see, what?”
She blinked, as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Oh, nothing.” She quickly set her gaze everywhere but on Clara.
Not going to happen. Clara reached forward and gave Maisie a pinch on her arm. “Spill it.”
“Ow,” Maisie muttered, rubbing her arm. She exchanged a long look with Amelia then said, “Okay, well, don’t rip my head off, but I mean, it seems like you two have fallen back into your old selves. He’s running from anything that’s hard. You’re letting him because you’re too afraid to be another person who makes his life hard. But the reality is that you want him to stay. And I bet money he wants to stay too.”
Clara stared blankly at her sister. “Please tell me how you got that from anything I said?” she asked in all seriousness.
Amelia cringed and lifted her hand. “Don’t kill me either, but she’s not the only one who thinks that.”
Clara looked between her sisters. “What is this? Gang-up-on-Clara time?”
“Not ganging up,” Amelia countered, giving a don’t-shoot-the-messenger look, still fiddling with that piece of string. “But we’re just pointing out that you don’t need to be the strong, responsible one all the time. To make sure everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong. Shit, Clara, things might fall apart completely, but that’s okay because sometimes good comes from that.”
Fine and all, but… “Do I need to remind you that I am the responsible sister in this family, the one who makes sure things don’t fall apart? It’s who I am.”
“No, you don’t need to remind us. Believe me, we are all very aware,” Amelia said with a sly smile as she took Clara’s hand. “We’re lucky to have you to make sure everything runs so smoothly, but I think that this side of you became even more…um, prominent…after Sullivan left and you had Mason. Like, you’re so scared of things getting out of control, because the last time they were, you were left heartbroken.”
She wasn’t wrong. “So, what exactly are you getting at?” Clara asked, trying to understand.
“Stop pretending,” Maisie stated matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.
“Stop pretending?” Clara repeated.
Maisie gave a firm nod, taking Clara’s other hand. “Stop telling yourself you don’t need him and want him in your life. Stop pretending your heart doesn’t want him to stay, no matter how hard it gets. Stop pretending Sullivan isn’t your one and only. Just stop pretending, Clara, no matter the fallout.”
Clara stared at Maisie, absorbing those words until she realized they sounded all too familiar. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, wiggling out of her sister’s hold. She leaned over to reach into her nightstand and took out the letter from Pops.
“What’s that?” Maisie asked.
Clara unfolded the wrinkled letter that had been opened a thousand times before. “When Pops passed away, he left me a