to be Shelley? A loose cannon? Going off script without any filter?
Gia shivered.
Had Shelley really slept with Raoul? But why? Shelley wasn’t a cruel person. No, but she followed her impulses, did as she pleased.
Just as Gia had when she’d cut up the quilt.
Guilt overwhelmed her.
She plodded up the steps to Mike’s house to tell him that he no longer had to pretend to be her fiancé.
The day was warm and bright, a sweet happy sunshine Monday. Except she was anything but happy. It should have been a fabulous day, but she’d lost control.
Lost her mind.
Her grammy was coming home in a week, expecting to find the quilt finished. Her sisters were still at each other’s throats and the one thing that had a chance of reuniting them was obliterated into a thousand little pieces.
Because of her.
She’d done it.
Fine. Okay. Enough. She’d been the peacemaker far too long. Now, she was the warmonger, bringing fights and destruction where she’d once brought peace.
The tears were impossible to stanch. They flowed from her eyes like a faucet. Despite what Grammy had said, it wasn’t up to Gia to fix things. This issue between her sisters went too far back. Before Raoul. It had nothing to do with Gia. She couldn’t change who they were. She couldn’t control them.
Hell, she couldn’t control herself.
By the time Mike answered the door, she was trembling all over. “Reconsider that breakfast burrito, did y—” He took her hand and pulled her over the threshold. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Madison. Shelley. I’m done.” It was all she could get out, she was breathing so hard.
He tugged her into the crook of his arm, kicked the door closed behind her, and guided her into the living room.
“Sit, sit.” He eased her onto the couch. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“I don’t, I need—” Oof, she still couldn’t find her voice.
“Shh, shh,” he soothed. “No rush to talk.”
She nodded, blurted, “It’s over. Done.”
Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “What is?”
“My relationship with my sisters. The quilt.” She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Me. You. Our fake engagement.”
“Wait, what?” He sank down beside her, not bothering to go for that glass of water.
“I told them the truth. That we aren’t really engaged.”
Mike’s face was unreadable. “I see.”
“Come on, Mike. Have some emotion. Tell me what you really think.”
“I think you have enough emotion for both of us right now.”
“I destroyed the quilt.”
“What do you mean by ‘destroyed’?”
“I chopped it up with power scissors. Madison and Shelley were like two pit bulls fighting over a bone, and I’d had it. I’ve spent my whole life moderating those two and I’m finished. Kaput.”
Mike snorted.
Was he mad at her?
Anxious, she looked over to see his eyes twinkling as he struggled not to burst out laughing. That irked her. “What’s so damn funny?”
“Nothing.” He held up both hands in surrender. “I would have paid to see the expressions on your sisters’ faces while you cut up that quilt.”
“They looked terrified. As if they thought I’d go after them next.” Gia rubbed her chin.
“Well, they should be terrified,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side, Gia.” He paused for a long beat and held her gaze, adding, “Always.”
“It was pretty satisfying for half a minute,” she said. “The look on their faces, that miserable quilt that was the symbol of everything wrong with our family, hacked to pieces, but now . . .”
“What?” he prodded.
“I feel like a jerk.”
“You’re not a jerk.”
“I lost it. That is so not cool.”
“It might not be cool, but maybe it was necessary.”
“Necessary for what? To break me down?”
“Or to free you.”
“From what?”
“To be you outside the confines of your relationship with your family.”
Gia plastered both hands to the top of her head. “There has to be a middle ground between doormat and bully.”
“You’re neither a doormat nor a bully.”
“Right now, I feel like both.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong. Okay, maybe cutting up the quilt was a bit excessive, but it got your point across, didn’t it?”
She remembered the horrified expression on her sisters’ faces, grinned briefly. “Oh yeah.”
“Well then.” He shrugged.
“It’s not good to lose your cool.”
“Says who?”
That gave her pause. “Hmm, everyone.”
“Meaning Madison?”
Gia shrugged. “Maybe.”
“From my way of thinking, when you finally expressed your anger and cut up that quilt, you killed off the part of yourself that’s been holding you back and keeping you from realizing your full potential.”
“You think?”
“I do. Look at the ways keeping the peace and not speaking your mind has held