Her scent sours, and I’m confused as to why until the person standing in front of the door speaks.
“I was wondering if I would find you here,” the woman says.
Blair has turned white as a ghost.
I don’t know who this person is, but I want to get her the fuck away from Blair.
“Hello, Annette,” Blair says.
30
BLAIR
“Hello, Annette.”
She’s never been bold enough to come here.
I haven’t even seen her since before the funeral, but she stands in front of the door to the rescue, her dark sunglasses covering her eyes. Her wiry copper hair is fluffed up like she’s in a beauty pageant, and a sharp fuchsia lipstick stains her mouth and teeth.
“Oh, so youdowork here,” she purrs. “I had heard from some people in town but wasn’t sure. Interesting. A cat rescue.” She looks at Travis. “Hello.”
Travis nods as Annette notices our clasped hands. “Oh, that’s nice. How are you doing?” she asks me sweetly.
But her tone is fake. It’s icy manipulation disguised as genuine interest.
“Fine,” I reply evenly. “Why are you here?”
She gives a mock gasp. “It’s Justin’s birthday,” she says, and my stomach churns. “Did you really forget?”
Travis stiffens beside me and squeezes my hand. I return the touch, hoping he doesn’t realize how panicked I am.
“Oh,” I reply dumbly.
She tsks her lips. “It’s good to see you moved on, though.” She smiles at Travis; her sharp canines covered in cheap lipstick. “I’m Annette. Justin’s mother. You know who that is, right? I’m sure she told you.”
Travis nods. “I do.” Then, he turns to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.
In that moment, I know I have him in my corner.
If I said the word, he would whisk me away from this nightmare.
If I said the word, Annette would be removed from the premises.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him gently, then turn back to Annette, who watches me through her too-big sunglasses.
“He would have been twenty-eight today,” she sighs. “A mother never forgets.”
She smells of cheap perfume; powdery with a harsh vanilla note.
Justin had told me before that his mother had always regretted being a Beta and not an Omega, and she makes up for it by buying fragrances that supposedly mimic Omega pheromones.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say simply.
She sucks her teeth. “Well, I came here to make amends with you. You know, today should be about forgiveness. It’s what Justin would have wanted.” She glances at Travis, then back at me. “I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t invite you to his funeral, and that I convinced the other mothers you shouldn’t be at their sons’ funerals,” she says, her voice laced with emotion. “You should have been there, even if it would have upset the others.”
My stomach sours and I grow still.
Anger and sorrow mix into a violent chaos in my chest, and I forget how to breathe.
