Page 40 of Wild Heart

“I assume she still hasn’t told Ivy where she is.”

Mom shook her head. “No. Your sister keeps trying, but Ava wants to keep that private for now.”

I should have been grateful just to know that she was okay. I didn’t know why I continued to hold out hope that we’d eventually learn the truth about where she was.

Technically, that was a lie.

I knew why I held out hope. It was that small part of me that didn’t have a single regret about my night with Ava. The part that could remember everything about it, from the way she kissed and moaned to the way it felt to touch her skin and move inside her.

It was that part of me that allowed me to hang onto the sadness and devastation for as long as I had. But as the weeks passed by, I stopped feeling so much grief over the situation, and my mindset had shifted to something else—anger.

I was so mad at Ava. For leaving, for not telling anyone, and for refusing to share the truth about where she was now. Worst of all, I was mad that she’d urged me to take the step I did with her, only for her to know she had no intention of coming back and not having the courage to tell me the truth when she left the next morning.

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” I said, telling my mom something I’d told her on more than one occasion now.

“I know, Tate. Nobody blames you for this.”

I sent her a dubious look. “Have you talked to Ivy? I’m pretty sure if she knew she wouldn’t get caught and sent to prison, she’d probably claw my eyes out.”

My mom smiled at me. “She just misses her best friend. It’s been eight weeks since she saw her last, and it wasn’t like they’d had much time together over those two days, anyway, with all the wedding festivities.”

There was no point for me to argue. Nothing she was saying was a lie. And given where I was at inside my own head with this whole mess of a situation, I decided the best thing I could do was shift the conversation to a new topic.

“So, what’s the project?” I asked, following a beat of silence.

“What project?”

“Isn’t that why you came in here to talk to me? Don’t you have something you want us to work on together?” I questioned her.

“Sorry, kid, but that’s not why I’m here,” she lamented. “And furthermore, I think you’ve taken on enough work over the last year and a half. Why would I be here to pile more on top of you?”

“Because I need the distraction.” The words spilled out of me before I could stop them.

My mom jerked back in her seat at the abruptness in my tone. “You know, like any good mother, I wish I could fix this for you, because I want to heal your heart. But now, I’m thinking I might need to add this to my list of reasons.”

“What?”

“You’ve become almost as irritable as Cooper when he’s at work.”

I sighed. “Sorry.”

There was a long stretch of silence between us, before my mom insisted, “She’s going to come back, Tate. She can’t stay gone forever.”

While there was that small part of me that wanted her back, there was a much bigger part that wasn’t quite sure what I’d say to her. Everything I thought I knew about her felt wrong. The woman I believe Ava to be wouldn’t have ever done something like this.

It all just led to me believing that she simply didn’t like what we’d had together that night. And while my sister had shared that Ava believed I didn’t want a relationship with her, I’d reached out. I’d called and texted. I’d attempted to communicate the truth to her, but she didn’t think I was even worthy of a return call. It was the most unimportant, insignificant, and lonely I’d felt in my whole life, despite having my entire family around me, day in and day out.

Refusing to talk more about Ava, I asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

My mom hesitated a moment, and I got the sudden inkling our conversation was going to drift right back to Ava somehow. “Well, Thanksgiving is just a few days away, which means that your birthday is only a little over two weeks away.”

“I’m not really feeling a big celebration this year,” I told her.

My mom winced. I felt bad, regretting saying those words to her. If there was one thing Evelyn Westwood lived for, it was finding a reason to celebrate. The problem was that I wasn’t feeling so festive.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” she murmured. “I understand things feel off right now for everyone, but we really need to try to get back some normalcy in our lives. I can’t see two of my boys going through this, Tate.”

She was referring to Liam. And since his birthday was less than a month ago—and hehatedcelebrating it now—I had tosuck it up. “I’m not saying we can’t do anything. I was just thinking that I’d prefer something small. Maybe just dinner at your place with the immediate family would be nice.”