Irreplaceable

Two stained-glass windows filtered in light on each side of the room, highlighting the dark wooden floors. Years of neglect and wear magnified the floor’s true age, but there was something comforting in it. I sat with my back against the bare brick wall, losing myself in a daydream of turning it into my own private office—or secret library.

I sat beside the sofa that was covered in a drop cloth and closed my eyes. Color schemes and furniture layouts played through my mind, just as they had for Julia’s house. I could dream at least.

The instant the phone vibrated beside me, I was pulled back to the empty room covered in cobwebs and layers of dust, as well as the somber reality of my empty bank account. No lavish makeover happening there.

I knew without looking whom the text was from. It’d been over two hours since I’d received one from Logan, with my last to him explaining I was getting my hands dirty and didn’t wish to be bothered.

With a smile, I read.

Still cleaning?

How did he know getting my hands dirty meant cleaning? He knew me better than I cared to admit. I replied.

Just finished.

Logan was careful not to hover too closely after my lunch with Oliver, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t blowing up my phone at least a dozen times a day—all texts, never once a call. I guess if we didn’t hear each other’s voices, it didn’t count as actually talking—at least, not to him.

Can I see you tonight?

It was the same request every night, and my reply was always the same.

No.

Instantly, he answered back.

I’ll bring dinner. Grilled cheese. Oliver can supervise

Lol. I’ll pass but tell Oliver I miss him

I will. Have a good night Cassandra.

You too.

I tucked my phone in my pocket, but the moment I went to stand, it vibrated again. He normally accepted my refusal and wouldn’t text again until after eight or nine to say good night.

The screen flashed and my finger swiped over it to show a text from Julia.

U still coming tonight?

I groaned, shoulders slouching. Logan’s birthday. I’d been so focused on sorting years of baggage that I’d completely forgotten.

Sorry can’t. Tell Oliver I said hi :)

Don’t leave me with a depressed brother and his ex-bitch. U sure I can’t convince u?

That certainly didn’t help her case. If she wanted to convince me, she shouldn’t have reminded me what I’d be walking in on.

Sorry. Have fun though!

Yeah right! Thanks!

My head rested against the cool wall, glad to have gotten out of the party so easily, and it was then that I noticed the purple hat box stashed behind the sofa. Grandma hadn’t been a very fashionable woman, so I wasn’t sure what I’d find inside as I pulled it out and placed it on the floor in front of my crossed legs. Confused by what I was looking down at, I removed a letter that had my mother’s name written on it in my grandmother’s hand from atop a pile of envelopes.

The letter inside was short and to the point:

Felicia,

Please see to it that Cassandra receives these when you’re ready. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’ve always loved you like a daughter, but he’s my son. I hope you understand.

I swallowed. My father? I should’ve closed the lid and thrown out the box, or taken it to my mother, whom my grandmother seemed to have had expected to find it. However, I found myself pulling out the first envelope, postmarked two years after he left. Whatever grandma was hiding, I needed to know.

Mom,

I’m sorry this hurts you so much, but I told you, I can’t come back. I can’t face them. I won’t write again. I don’t want to further upset you. I can’t explain my love for her, but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. She’s my everything. If you gave Nina a chance, you’d see…

“Nina?” I gasped, dropping the letter.

Nina? My babysitter who went off to college the same time my father left Nina? No, it was too much to assume. There had to be thousands of women in the world with that same name.

I didn’t need to know anymore. Whatever the letters said didn’t mean anything other than further damaging my faith in men. I stuffed the letter back in the envelope and saw the photograph peeking out from under the stack. I couldn’t stop myself from pulling it out to reveal a smiling picture of my father, his arm wrapped around the same Nina who played Barbies with me almost every Saturday for an entire year.

Irate, I shoved it back inside and placed the lid on the box before standing and releasing a deep breath, wishing I’d never looked behind the couch to begin with.

Once I climbed down from the attic and closed up the ladder carefully, tucking it back into the ceiling, I took a quick shower, resigned to forget what I’d read.

An hour later, I plopped down on my couch, phone in hand, and sent the text to Logan that should’ve gone out after Julia’s reminder text, had I not gotten distracted. Logan and I weren’t friends anymore, but I liked things being civil between us. I wasn’t going to overthink it; just a simple text, nothing special.

Happy birthday!

There, a neighborly deed done well. He’d never even told me it was his birthday, so maybe he didn’t want me to know. I rarely knew what he was thinking.

I waited for a reply, but it never came. I figured he was busy at work or on his way home, where he’d be bombarded with his family—his family that included Natasha. I wondered what that would be like for him after all this time…to have her back and celebrating his birthday.

It wasn’t my business, and I wasn’t going to dwell.

Chapter Thirteen

Birthday Ultimatums

Ringing shook through my head. I swatted my arm at nothing and rolled my head to the other side, but it didn’t stop. Instead, it seemed to only grow louder and clearer as my eyes flickered open, adjusting to the darkness. The only light was from the glow illuminating my nightstand. The ringing stopped and I closed my eyes again, relaxing back into the mattress, when the annoying chirping started again.

“Hello?” I croaked, pressing the phone to my ear, still in a sleepy daze.

“About time!”

“Hilary?” My voice cracked, riddled with exhaustion. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty. Did I wake you?”

I swallowed, clearing the dryness in my throat. “Mm-hmm.” My hand wiped away the sleep in my eyes.

“The fact that you’re sleeping at this hour on a Saturday night is another issue we need to discuss, but right now you need to come down to Haven.”

The nerves in her voice crawled under my skin. I made a face, pulling myself up and resting against the headboard. “Why, is everything all right?”

“No, now hurry up and get down here!”

The line went dead, and I knew if I didn’t get dressed and drag myself down there, she’d only keep calling.

“This better be important!” I complained the moment I stepped inside the bustling restaurant, with Hilary waiting at the door.

She looked nervous.

“I didn’t know who else to call, and Caleb agreed you were the best person.”

Best person for what? I gave her a pointed look.

“Don’t be mad, please.” She stepped aside with a tense shrug, revealing the view of the bar and the back of a hard body I recognized instantly.