For me and Dom.
For the future I dreamed of having with him just days ago.
For the one that was stolen from us, but that ultimately gave me Eric.
***
“Are you expecting a phone call from someone special?”
My mother’s eyebrows dance whimsically as she says the last two words, but her smile is still stiff and cold around the edges, reminding me of the ugly curl of her lips on that day. We’ve just finished eating and are sipping mimosas by the bar while my father chats with some colleagues across the room. The moment he left us alone, I started feeling anxiousand pulled out my phone just to have someplace to redirect my energy while I figured out how to broach the topic.
I turn my phone over in my lap and hold in the laugh that’s building in my chest. The irony of her using our first moment alone in weeks to meddle in my personal life is almost too much. She still hasn’t apologized for the hurtful things she said at that dinner, and now I’m about to ask her to own up to yet another horrible thing she’s done to me.
“No. Just waiting on some important news for one of my projects.”
She frowns at my mention of work on a Saturday. “You work too much, Sloane. When do you make time to live your life?”
I set my glass on the bar. “I love my job, Mom. I work hard because I’m good at it, but in no way does it stop me from living my life.”Certainly didn’t stop me from making a mess of it.
Her lips are pressed into a tight line. And I can’t help but wonder if she’s physically restraining herself from making some smart remark about me being good at making a rich man happy if I put my mind to it.
“Darling, you haven’t been in a serious relationship since your marriage ended, and I don’t need to remind you how hard dating is after a woman turns thirty.”
My mouth falls open. “My marriage didn’tend, Mom. My husband died. There’s a huge difference.”
She waves a dismissive hand at me as she takes another sip of her drink. “You know what I meant, Sloane. Honestly, do you always have to make me out to be some kind of monster who doesn’t appreciate what you’ve been through?”
“Youdon’tappreciate what I’ve been through. You constantly minimize my grief, just like you minimized my marriage because youneverliked Eric. Once you realized he didn’t come with a trust fund or private-school education, you wrote him off.”
I’m shaking and my voice is shrill, but thankfully low, as I hurl thewords at her. All of the things I’ve thought but never said because I didn’t think her view of the world could ever impact my relationships in any real way. But today I know that’s not true, and I’m pissed at her for all of it.
Not because I regret Eric—I could never do that—but because it had to have torn Dom apart to watch us together, to love me, and let someone else have me. I spent twenty-four hours thinking he loved someone else, but he lived that reality for twelve years. And it must have been hell for him.
A hell my mother crafted with her own selfish hands.
One of those hands wrap around my forearm as she leans toward me. “Lower your voice.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I snatch my arm away from her. “The last thing I want to do is embarrass you by making a scene in public.”
“You’re an adult, Sloane. The only person you’ll be embarrassing is yourself.”
“I don’t give a damn what these people think of me, but you do. And you’ve always cared more about perception than anything else.”
Annoyance flashes in her eyes as she looks around the room to make sure no one is watching us argue. “Do you have a specific grievance you want to air out with me, or are you just ruining brunch for no good reason?”
“Actually, I do have an issue I want to talk to you about.” I cross my legs and angle my body toward her. “The day after I moved onto campus for freshman year, you came to visit me. Do you remember?”
“Finding you in your bed drooling and hungover from a night of underage drinking? Yes, I remember it.”
“Do you also remember taking a note from my desk and never mentioning it to me?”
Her brows lift, and she takes a short sip of her drink before she answers. “That was so long ago, Sloane. I can’t recall every single detail of the day.”
“Either you remember the day or you don’t.”
“Fine. Imighthave seen a note on your desk with the name and number of a young man scribbled on it asking you to call him in the morning.”
I chew the inside of my cheek to keep myself from exploding on her. I can’t believe it’s true. “What did you do with it?”
