“The man you’ve been photographed with. It’s all over the papers. Oh, Willow, how could you do this to me? I’d toldeveryoneabout you and Francesco. I thought it was serious. And now to see you in the papers with some…some…who is he?” Meredith repeated, but Willow had stopped listening after the first sentence of Meredith’s tirade anyway.
The man you’ve been photographed with.
She pulled her phone from her ear and put it on speakerphone, so she could open a browser and search her own name whilst still ostensibly on the call to her stepmother.
A recently published article came up, from one of those glossy gossip magazines, showing three photos of her and Tom, taken about three seconds apart, so it was just literally his arms around her as they pulled in for a very chaste, polite kiss goodbye.
Who knew a ten minute catch up in a park to swap some of their things that had been left behind at one another’s houses would cause such a stir?
“He’s just a friend,” she said, hating the invasion of that. Hating even more so that the article made reference to her ‘relationship’ with Francesco, so their names would be forever linked on the internet.
“You look very intimate for being ‘just friends’.”
“We were saying goodbye.”
Meredith made a noise of disbelief. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for your father and me?”
“I—what?”
“Your break up. You’d actually managed to land one of the most desired bachelors, someone we could be truly proud of, and you couldn’t even hold onto him for a month. Honestly, Willow. It’s enough to make us despair.”
Willow heard the words—the sort of words that had been levelled at her so many times over the years, and she’d been able to ignore, or downplay. But this time, they landed differently. Or perhaps it was that she was different now. Whatever else had come about through her relationship with Francesco, his view of her had made her stronger. Had made her less willing to accept this kind of BS from her stepmother.
“Well, thank you very much for your concern, but my private life is really none of your business.”
Obviously, Meredith had never been spoken to so frankly by Willow, and she showed her shock by gasping down the phone line. But it only hardened Willow’s resolve.
“You ungrateful, unbelievable…”
“I am not ungrateful,” Willow interrupted. “I appreciate that raising some other woman’s child was not in your life’s plans, but you’re done now. I’m not a child anymore, but a fully grown woman, and my life, my choices, are all my own. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with them, but I’m not going to date—or avoid dating—anyone, based on your opinion.”
“Your father will be hearing about this?—,”
“Great. Wonderful. He should get this message too, though he’s far less inclined to interfere than you are.”
“If you don’t apologise, this minute, you can forget about coming home anytime soon.”
Something dipped inside of Willow, because that was truly one of the most hurtful things her stepmother could have said. To take away the ability to come home…to be expelled, officially, from the family. It cut deep.
“Fine,” she said, like her heart wasn’t breaking. “That’s probably for the best. Tell the girls I’ll be in touch. Take care, Meredith.”
She disconnected the call and let out a large sob, but it was a sound of relief, as much as grief. She collapsed onto the edge of an armchair and stared at the wall, shaking in disbelief at what she’d just done.
14
EVEN THOUGH SHE KNEW her parents were several hours drive away, when a thumping sounded at Willow’s door a half hour after the call from Meredith, she fully expected it to be her irate stepmother or father. Or both.
She didn’t stop to look through the glass before pulling the door inwards, and then wished she had, when Francesco stood on the step, looking at her with the same mask of fury he’d worn the last time they’d seen each other.
She wasn’t prepared for this.
She needed time and warning before seeing him again. She needed time to gather her defenses and be able to look at him without feeling as though she were in freefall. But given the lack of notice, she was completely knocked for six.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, forgetting they were friends and instead focusing on the fact that this man had broken her heart. He hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t change the facts. “I thought we were having a clean break?”
He just glared at her, like she’d said something hideously insulting.
“What are you doing here?” she repeated, but louder, and the last thing she expected was for him to sweep past her, into her hallway, pushing the door shut in his wake.
