Savior Complex: A Small Town Love Triangle Romance

“Yes, Mom,” I mutter, then drag myself to my room while Claire and Maren get to work cleaning.

The shower feels incredible—more incredible than it has any right to feel. It’s like every part of my body has been craving the feel of soap and water, from the dry skin on my face to the wiggles in my toes. Even though my belly is crying out for that sandwich, I take my time in the shower, washing my sorrow down the drain. Afterwards, I brush my teeth—and wow—who knew brushing your teeth could feel like self-care?

When I look in the mirror, I see a slightly fresher me staring back. My roots are starting to show, and the purple color of my hair is practically grey. My cheeks are flushed, but my skin is pale. My cheeks appear gaunt, and when I weigh myself, I see I’ve accidentally lost ten pounds. That’s on top of the other ten I’ve lost since I started working at the ranch. But I’ve never lost weight accidentally, and now my sweats are hanging off my hips.

When I pad down the stairs, I’m greeted by the smell of lemon cleaner and candles. Then I see the house and realize just how long I’ve been in there. Maren and Claire have made quick work of cleaning. Everything is sparkling from the weird modern furniture in the living room to the counters in the kitchen. Even the garbage is gone, and when I peek out the kitchen windows, I see the cans are at the curb.

“You guys,” I say, and there’s a catch in my throat. Maren comes over and gives me a side hug. She’s not a hugging person, so I immediately realize something is up.

“Ethan said we should check on you,” Claire explained. Which reminds me of the invitation on the fridge. A wedding between my cousin and Claire that’s happening in two weeks, where I not only have to leave the house, but likely face Brayden since Jordy is invited with a plus one.

“Are you two ready for the wedding?” I ask, because that’s the polite thing to ask. She waves her hand in dismissal.

“Never mind about us, how are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, obviously,” I say, then grimace because I’m obviously not okay. “How would Ethan even have known?” I ask. But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know. “My mother.”

Claire nods her head in confirmation.

“She’s been trying to reach you for weeks. When she couldn’t get a hold of you, she tried Jordy, who basically said you could rot in hell.”

“Sounds about right.”

“So your mom called Ethan, and here we are.”

“When you didn’t take my calls either, I figured something big was going on.” Maren looks at me carefully. “Is something big going on?”

I look at the ground, then nod. “I mean, it’s not what Jordy thinks,” I say. “I kicked her out because she decided to make my house her personal design project while I was gone.” I gesture to the living room. “She took out all of Nanna Dot’s things and brought in a bunch of modern furniture and art. She even painted the walls, and she took down all the curtains.”

“It looks nice,” Claire says, and Maren and I both glare at her. At least Maren remembers whose side to be on.

“It doesn’t look like my house,” I say. “She didn’t even ask. I mean, how would you feel if someone decided to redesign your whole living space without even talking with you.”

“You have a point,” Claire says.

“It’s the only point.” Damn, she can be so clueless.

“Not the only point. What is the big thing Jordy doesn’t know.”

“I slept with Brayden.” I pull the Band Aid off quick, then brace myself for the reaction?

“What?” Claire says at the same time Maren laughs, “You slut!”

Claire gives Maren a look that clearly shows they’re on separate sides about this too. And honestly—surprisingly—I’m siding with Claire.

“It shouldn’t have gotten this far,” I admit, sinking onto the couch.

“Hold up. I’m starving, and by the amount of to-go bags we just threw away, I know you need some quality food. Let’s sit in the kitchen and talk about this over sandwiches.”

I think of the impracticality of the tiny bistro table in the kitchen.

“Better idea. Let’s huddle around this ugly ass living room table and talk here.”

“Just don’t make a mess,” Maren warns, setting the sandwiches and some napkins on the table. I knock the napkins to the floor, just because I can.

Over sandwiches, I tell them everything. About the horseback rides, the weeks of flirting, and then the convention with only one bed that led to a weekend away on the coast.

“One bed, huh? That’s how it always starts,” Claire says with a smirk. Fair. She’s read enough romance novels to know.