Promises We Meant To Keep: Chapter 29

IT’S BEEN weeks since the tea party. Since my mother appeared uninvited and scared the crap out of me. I’ve been hiding out in Spencer’s apartment ever since, only accompanying him when we go out for meals, and even then, we usually get takeout and end up staying home. If someone wants to see me, they have to come to the apartment.

I don’t trust going out on my own. She knows where I’m at. She could be lingering, hiding nearby as I leave the building, anxious to pounce the moment I’m far enough from the doormen and anyone else who could potentially rescue me.

It’s weird, not trusting the person you used to depend on the most. I thought I’d already processed my feelings about it, but I guess I haven’t fully. I’ve made an appointment with a new therapist, and I hope it works out. It’s hard to find someone you can click with, who you feel comfortable enough to share all the vulnerable feelings you rarely discuss with anyone else.

The one person I trust more than anyone else is Spencer. He’s stayed true throughout all the years. By my side, loyal and supportive. He gives his love to me unconditionally, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.

I’m starting to become too dependent, but I don’t care. I’m in love with him. He’s in love with me.

Nothing can keep us apart.

The sex is phenomenal too. Not that I can compare it to anyone else, since he’s basically the only man I’ve ever been with, but it’s so good. He knows exactly what I want, when I want it. He can be tender and sweet, or growly and a little rough. Those are my favorite moments, when he acts out of control and does things to me that I never expected.

We’re lying in bed after a particularly passionate moment together, the two of us flat on our backs, panting as we stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot outside, summer having showed up and made everything outside muggy and miserable.

Inside, I’m muggy right now, though I’m definitely not miserable. But my bare skin is sticky with sweat and my hair is clinging to the back of my neck. Fingers trail down my arm, light enough to make me shiver, and when I glance to my left, I find Spencer already watching me.

“You all right?”

I nod, frowning at him. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re extra quiet.” He curls his fingers around mine.

“And you were extra ferocious.”

“In a bad way?”

I roll over so I can wrap my body around his, absorbing his strength, his warmth. “Never in a bad way.”

“Good.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me close. “I’m tired.”

We’re both quiet for a moment, and I can feel his body slowly relaxing. He’s falling asleep, and I blurt out the one thing I keep thinking about off and on lately.

“I want a cat.”

His arm tightens around my shoulder. “A cat?”

His voice is deep and rumbly. A little sleepy sounding. I love these moments when it’s just the two of us in bed, naked and wrapped up in each other.

“Yes. A cat,” I admit.

“What kind? Do you have a special breed in mind?”

“I think a certain kind of cat, yes. Very specific.” I’m being vague on purpose because I know what I’m asking for is…silly.

But I want it. Her.

“Well, we know money is no object.” Spencer kisses my forehead. “Why don’t you go ahead and get the cat you want?”

“She’s, um…a little wild.”

He takes a while to respond. I’m sure he’s absorbing what I just said. “What cat are you talking about exactly?”

“Squirrel.”

“You want a squirrel? That’s just a glorified rat, Syl. No one wants a pet squirrel.”

“No, no. I don’t want a squirrel. I want the cat I called Squirrel. She was so cute. Totally wild. Followed me everywhere I went.” I glance up at him. “The gray cat that hung around the house in Big Sur. I want her.”

“You want to take her out of the only home she’s ever known and bring her here to the city?” He’s frowning, and it’s adorable. “She’s not a city cat. She wants to be wild and free. On the coast of California.”

“I think I can convince her to be happy here. I’m kind of wild, and so is she. I think we’re kindred spirits, Squirrel and me.” I press my face against his chest, a little embarrassed. I sound silly. I’m sure he’ll say yes, just to humor me, and I’m grateful for that. I am.

But I also want to prove to him that this cat will be good for me, and I’ll be good for her.

“I say get what you want. If you want to bring Squirrel here, bring her.” His voice turns stern. “If she fucks with my furniture, I’m kicking her out.”

“You are not.” I poke his side with my index finger, making him grunt. “You’ll love her. She’ll sit in your lap and purr for your attention.”

“Like you do?” He rolls me over, so I’m on sprawled on top of his naked body, my face in his. “I know how to make you purr.”

I roll my eyes. “You do not.”

He grins, his hand sliding over my butt cheek. “Oh, but I do.”

“Stop trying to distract me.” I bite at his bottom lip, so hard he yelps. “I’m calling Roland in the morning and asking him to catch her for me. I’ll make all the arrangements and fly her here.”

“Will he want to send the cat here?”

“He’ll do anything to help me. He already told me so.”

Spencer’s careful gaze settles on my face, his hand drifting up and down my ass. “How is it you end up with every man you know wrapped around your finger?”

I shrug. “It’s a gift.”

“I’ll say.” He spanks me, making me jolt.

Making me wet.

“You are very naughty,” I murmur against his lips before I kiss him.

“Wait until you see me at my filthiest.”

“I haven’t yet?” My brows shoot up.

He smirks. “Not even close.”

I arrive at Summer and Whit’s building in the car my brother sent over. He reassured me that our mother wouldn’t know I was coming over.

“She’s in Ibiza,” he told me on the phone a few days ago. “A little solo vacation. Though I hear she’s over there to have some work done.”

“Really? In Ibiza?” I’m shocked.

“Yes. She’s done this before. A lot of people do, including Summer’s mom. They claim they’re going on vacation, but really, they’re getting a tweak here and there. I hear our mother is going for a face lift.”

“Who told you this?”

“Dad.”

She would tell him everything. Still desperate to get him back in her clutches, though he never falls for it.

I don’t fall for it anymore either.

The driver escorts me inside the building, handing me off to the security guard, who leads me to the penthouse elevator. Lots of protection, thanks to my brother, which is reassuring.

Between him and Spencer, I feel safe.

Loved.

The moment the elevator opens, Summer is standing there in front of me, gloriously pregnant and with my nephew, August, on her hip. She’s wearing a pale blue, flowing dress, and I swear she’s glowing with vitality.

“Down! Put me down!” Augie shouts the moment he sees me, squirming in his mother’s arms. “Auntie!”

“Aw.” I kneel down as soon as Summer sets him on his feet, and he runs toward me, tackling me so hard I almost teeter backward and land on my butt. “Augie. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Auntie.” His sweet little baby voice is so cute. We’ve been talking on FaceTime lately, and Summer is always reminding him that I’m his auntie. His father’s little sister, just like he’s going to be the big brother to a little sister soon too.

He probably doesn’t get it now, but he will eventually. There’s going to be someone in his life he’ll need to watch over for the rest of his life.

“Come on, August. Let’s go in the kitchen and get a snack,” Summer suggests.

Augie places his sweaty hands on my face, smiling at me in absolute glee. “You want a snack?”

“Please,” I tell him, grinning when he leans in and presses a sticky kiss to my cheek. I rise to my feet and take his hand. “Let’s go.”

Summer leads us into the kitchen and prepares her son a snack along with something to drink.

“Let’s go talk in the study,” Summer tells me when Augie’s nanny shows up to take over with his care. “You want some lemonade?”

“Please,” I tell her, watching as she glides about the kitchen, the domestic goddess she is pouring us glasses of lemonade.

I envy her ease at performing domestic chores in her multi-million-dollar apartment. Pregnant with her second baby. Married and happy with my brother, who is one of the unhappiest individuals I’ve ever known, besides myself.

Until he met Summer. Once she came into his life—and he allowed himself to admit his feelings for her—he became a changed man. Still a cruel asshole, who barely tolerates the human race, but he does love and adore his wife and son, and soon-to-be baby girl.

A wistful sigh leaves me when I think of me and Spencer. I’m only happy when I’m with him. All of my problems seem to fall away, disappearing completely, when I’m in his presence. When I let him love me.

And I’m not talking about sex either. He shows he loves me in a variety of ways. He takes care of me. Listens to me. Is willing to fight my battles, but backs down when I say I can handle them myself.

His support is what I’ve craved my entire life. My father is too self-absorbed to understand my needs. Or he was too focused on Carolina. Whit. Never me. Sometimes I wonder if he even cares about what’s going on in my world. And my mother…

She’s too obsessed with me. It sounds arrogant, even in my own thoughts, but it’s true.

“Let’s go,” Summer says, and I take the crystal glass of lemonade from her, falling into step behind her as we head for the study.

The interior is warm and inviting, with a giant window that overlooks the city. It’s crystal clear this afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and the sun blazes high. A typical early summer day in Manhattan, and it makes me want to leave. Makes me yearn to go to the house on Long Island and spend my days by the ocean.

“How are you?” Summer asks once we’re settled in chairs across from each other. “And be real with me.”

I take a sip of my lemonade, the sweet yet tart taste bursting on my tongue. “I’m great. Really.”

“You and Spencer are doing well?”

“The best we ever have,” I admit truthfully.

Her smile is slow. “I love that.”

“Me too.” I hesitate for only a moment. “I love him.”

“That’s so sweet. Does he know this?”

I nod, my cheeks going warm. It’s still embarrassing to me, being truthful with my feelings.

“You two have been living together for weeks.”

“Actually, a couple of months,” I correct.

Summer leans back in her overstuffed chair with a sigh, patting her belly. “Time drags, yet also flies by. I’m going to have this baby in less than a month, and I still can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe it either, but I’m so excited.” I smile, watching as Summer gazes down at her protruding stomach. “Do you have a name picked yet?”

“It’s so difficult. I wanted to choose an old Lancaster family name for her, but so many of them are extremely old-fashioned. Whit shoots down every single one of them I suggest,” Summer explains.

“Figures.” I roll my eyes, making her laugh.

“We should get together sometime soon, before the baby arrives. You could come over for dinner. Or we could go out,” Summer suggests.

“I would love that,” I admit softly.

I need a friend right now. I can’t unload all of my troubles on Spencer all the time, though he never seems to mind. He’s supportive no matter what, but I don’t want to push him away with my constant neediness.

He doesn’t complain, but I know I can be intolerable sometimes.

Most of the time.

“I’m glad we’re seeing more of you,” Summer says. “We were worried we lost you completely once you married Earl. And then he died, and your mother monopolized you completely, though we believed she was truly helping you. Then you completely locked yourself away in his apartment and rarely saw the family anymore. Truth be told, I was surprised you went to our wedding.”

“Whit had to convince me,” I admit.

“He told me.” Summer takes a long sip of her drink, and I wonder if she’s searching for the right thing to say. “We’re concerned, Sylvie. About your mother, and the relationship you two have.”

I’m silent, absorbing her words, trying to ignore the incessant throb starting at my temples.

This is stressful, being called out. Exposing the secret that I’ve held so close for so long. It’s easy to tell Spencer because he feels like a witness to most of it. Summer saw things too. More than anything, I told her so much back in high school. More than I’d ever told another soul, minus Spencer, and then I shit all over our friendship and ruined everything.

“We don’t have a relationship any longer,” I finally say.

“According to you. According to Sylvia, you two are fine. You’re just working some things out. That’s what she told Whit when he called her.”

I frown. “When did he call her?”

“Yesterday. She just returned from Ibiza. He and Spencer went to lunch a few weeks ago and were sharing their concerns about you and your mother.” Her brows drag together when I assume she sees the confusion on my face. “You knew they met up, didn’t you? That Spencer came to him and let him know he was worried about Sylvia.”

“No.” I shake my head. “He never told me.”

“Oh.” Guilt flashes in Summer’s eyes. “I’m not trying to cause any trouble between the two of you. He said something because he hoped Whit would have some advice. Considering none of us were fully aware of the extent your mother went in harming you, it was a difficult bit of information for Whit to digest.”

“And I suppose that’s my fault, not saying anything.” I press my lips together, leaning over to set the glass of lemonade on the nearby table with shaky fingers. I can’t help but get defensive when it comes to my mother.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Summer says gently. “It’s just—we didn’t know. I mean, I assumed some things, but you never told me everything. You didn’t tell Whit anything either.”

“It’s very—difficult to say your mother is trying to kill you without worrying that people will think you’re a liar.”

“I never thought you were a liar. You would allude to things here and there. Concerning details that left me confused, but at the time, I was too young to be of much help. Plus, I didn’t know if you were possibly…lying.”

“I suppose I warranted your distrust of me. I wasn’t the most loyal, and yes, sometimes I exaggerated things. I’m not proud of my behavior back then.” I lift my chin, trying to keep it together.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, or looking for an apology. We’ve already discussed this, and everything is forgiven between the both of us. Just know that I’m definitely not proud of my behavior back then either. I’ve done some stupid things in my life. So have you. Back then, we were both young, and you were heavily influenced by your mother,” Summer says.

Everything she says is right. I know it. But it’s still hard for me to deal with how I treated her when I was her only friend—and she was mine. How I shut her out because I was jealous. I felt used that time when I brought her home for Thanksgiving break. She didn’t come for me. She went to spend time with my brother, and that hurt.

Even though she was there for me whenever I needed her. Eventually, so was Spence. I invited him over that week too, and abandoned her like she abandoned me. Kept Spencer in the dark to all of the problems, and eventually ratted Summer and Whit out to Mother.

Ultimately, I just wanted her approval and I would do anything to get it.

Including betray one of my only real friends.

Tears are suddenly leaking from my eyes and I close them for a moment, taking a deep breath. But it’s no use.

I’m crying.

“Sylvie…” Her voice is soft and she appears ready to leap out of her chair, but I hold up my hand, stopping her.

“I’m sorry for everything I did back then. I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve told me you forgive me, but it hangs over me still. Like a dark cloud I can never escape. I betrayed you in the worst way possible, and took sides. The wrong one.” I’m full-on sobbing now, and Summer propels herself out of the chair, grabbing a box of tissues from a nearby console table. She waddles toward me, holding out the box, and I take a few tissues from her.

Fuck it. I take the entire box from her.

She’s quiet, letting me cry. Letting me get it all out. She returns to her chair, settling in it heavily, and when I wipe my eyes one final time and blow my nose, she finally speaks up.

“You need to let it go.”

I dab at the corner of my eyes, confused. “Let what go?”

“The guilt. That was years ago. I’ve told you before I’ve forgiven you, and I mean it. Whit has forgiven you as well.”

“I didn’t realize he was angry at me,” I say drolly, blowing my nose yet again.

“He didn’t like you for a while. You have to admit, the things you were doing once you left high school were pretty unlikeable. You drove everyone important in your life away from you.”

Summer is right. I need to let everything that’s happened go for good. What’s done is done. I can’t change the past.

But I can work on myself for the future.

“I take responsibility for my actions, but my mother had a hand in that too.” She was always so careful, isolating me when she felt outside influences were creeping too close. Letting me go away to school was tough on her. Witnessing me making friends, seeing how other people acted and lived probably scared her. She wanted us to have our own little world.

Just me and her.

Spencer showed up and made things worse, I can see it now. His influence was the strongest yet. I wanted him. I thought of him and no one else. And she hated that.

So much.

Losing control of me made her do desperate things. Dangerous. I’m lucky I’m alive.

I realize that now. More than ever.

“I know. We both know. She’s returned to the city, though I guess I already mentioned that, right? Whit saw her. Says she looks ten years younger. To the point that it’s kind of freaky.” Summer breaks out into a smile, then tries to hide it with her fingers.

I can’t help but smile too. It’s always fun, when Whit picks on our mother.

“Is it bad?” I can imagine a botched facelift. Or maybe her skin is too tight, her lips too plump.

“No, it’s good. Too good. She looks so young.” She goes quiet for a moment, and I see an internal struggle there. As if she wants to tell me something, but she’s not sure if she should. “She actually looks just like…you.”