On My Way - Eve Langlais Page 0,35

boob job, a bit of lipo.”

I blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah you. Who do you think they’re made for?” Winnie rolled her eyes.

The very idea had me shaking my head. “No way. I am not letting someone slice me open and chop parts off.”

“Why? What are you afraid of?”

“Did you miss the part where they cut me open?”

“People have it done every day, Mom.”

“What if I’m the one where stuff goes wrong?”

“Why would you even assume something bad would happen?”

I almost opened my mouth to say, “that’s just my luck,” but for some reason, I heard a tiny violin playing in my head. Exactly how long would I keep having this pity party for myself? “I can’t afford it.”

“You got money from the divorce.”

“And used a bunch of it to buy the shop.”

“Which will be a huge success.”

Again, my lips parted, ready to drag my dream down, but I caught myself and instead said, “Yes, it will.”

Winnie didn’t hide her surprise that I’d agreed. She smiled. “And when that happens, you are going in for a nip and tuck. They’ll fix your belly and put your tits back up here, too.” Winnie cupped her breasts, and my cheeks flamed.

“It’s not that bad,” I lied. My nipples hadn’t pointed forward since my second pregnancy. The thought of not having to lift them into my bra intrigued me.

“I don’t think you’ll need a butt lift, though. Your ass looks pretty good.”

“Um, thanks. Now if we’re done talking about me, let’s go back to you. And the fact you’re awesome and can get any guy you’d like.”

“Except Jude.”

“Jude is an asshole.” I slapped a hand over my mouth the moment the expletive slipped from my lips.

Winnie’s eyes widened. “Mom!” She laughed. “Oh, my fucking God, you should see your face.”

“Winnie! Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.” I wasn’t religious per se, but I had a thing about swearing using the word God.

“Holy shit, you can be so rigid.”

“You know I’m not a fan of bad language.”

“Yeah, I do know. It’s why cursing around you is so much fun. And I will point out, you’ve gotten a bit more of a potty mouth lately since you left Dad.”

“Have not.” Yet she was right. I had. In the past, it was as if the more Martin went after me, the less I allowed my emotions to slip. But now that he was gone, I didn’t feel such a strong need to guard my words. I could say whatever the heck— Whatever the fuck I wanted.

“Okay, boomer.”

“You do know I’m too young to be a boomer.” I was proudly Generation X, the era with the best music, and epic hair.

“Whatever, Mom. Let’s just chalk up my swearing to another one of my character flaws. Along with my bitchy attitude.

“Who called you a bitch?” I exclaimed, ready to go to battle.

“No one. But I know people are thinking it. It’s because I’m bossy and I don’t take shit from anyone.”

“Nothing wrong with being assertive.”

“It is when you’re a woman. And you’re one to talk. You used to let Dad walk all over you.”

A harsh but valid point. “That’s the past. I’m changing. Have changed.”

“You have.” Winnie eyed me. “But you’re still not happy.”

I frowned and took a sip of tea before replying. “I’m not unhappy either.”

“But something is missing.”

She saw it. I felt it. Now if only I could figure out what I needed.

10

I spent the night in a restless state, tossing and turning, reliving in my nightmares that terrifying moment with the eyes. Then dying of shame as Jace and Darryl mocked me. Followed by a heated kiss that started with Darryl, sweet and tender, then morphed into Jace, hard and angry, and then, last of all, Kane. He took command of my lips but also demanded I give in return.

I woke wet.

Like soaked. Sheets and all. Not with pee, thank goodness. Sweat. It covered me, head to toe. Even my hair was lanky and damp.

I stripped everything, my pajamas, sheets, all of it, and jumped into a shower. The lukewarm water rinsed the ickiness away and left me fresh.

Was I sick? Had I overheated? For a brief second, the thought of menopause hit me. I wasn’t fifty, though. On the other side of forty yes, but still too young, surely?

Heading down for my morning coffee, I glanced around. Winnie’s door was closed, and her car still parked out front. She had the day off, meaning I could leave Grisou at home. That was probably best since I