“No.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “You’re not marrying this man.”
My chest tightened. “Mom… we are married.”
“It’s been under six months. You can still get it annulled.” She started up the stairs like the conversation was over. “I’ll call my lawyer from the car. We’ll talk on the way back to my hotel.”
My hand shot out before I could stop myself, grabbing her arm and yanking her back down.
“I’m not going anywhere. You said you came to visit, not drag me back like a runaway teen.”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like I was giving her a migraine. “What part of ‘annulment’ don’t you understand? Your father and I agreed—maybe sending you away was harsh. We just want you back home. Where it’s safe.”
Her eyes flicked toward Nick—disdain curling her lips—then landed back on me. “Not living like… this.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Her voice rose, incredulous, like I’d just told her the sky was green.
“I mean, I’m not leaving. What part of married do you not get?”
“Melanie, why do you always have to be so damn difficult? I thought you came out here to better yourself, not…” Her gaze dragged over Nick like he was something sticky on the bottom of her shoe. He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt revealing his many tattoos with grey sweat pants. As casual as he looked, he still looked beautiful.
“Not ruin your life.”
Nick’s voice cut in, low and dangerous. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means my daughter isn’t throwing away her future on some low-rent fantasy. Was this supposed to be an acting gig? Look around, Melanie!” She waved a perfectly manicured hand at the small, cozy space. “You expect me to believe this is the life you want? And him?”
“It’s a tiny house,” Nick said through clenched teeth, hands fisting at his sides.
“Mom, please. Just slow down—this is a lot, I get it, but no one is getting an annulment.”
She stared at me like she didn’t recognize me. “Did I teach you nothing? This man has nothing to offer you.”
Nick stood, stepping forward, and I saw the muscles in his neck tense. “At least I’m not a fucking?—”
“Okay!” I shoved a hand against his chest, stopping him before it escalated. “Just… stop.”
I turned back to her, my throat thick with shame and fury. Nick was proud of what he built. And it would never be good enough for her. Not because of what he lacked, but because of who he wasn’t.
“Money doesn’t fix everything,” Nick growled.
My mother scoffed like he’d told a bad joke. “That’s what broke people say. Try having money and see how miserable you are.”
“You have it,” Nick spat. “And you’re still a raging bi?—”
“That’s enough!” I cut in, louder this time. My pulse was racing, head pounding like a drum. “Both of you.”
My mother straightened, ice in her voice. “Melanie. I need to speak to you. Alone.”
Nick didn’t flinch. “Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of me. I’m her husband.”
“And I’m her mother,” she snapped, her tone venomous. “I want a word. Alone.”
“She’s twenty-one,” Nick bit out. “Not twelve. She can make her own damn choices.”
I touched his arm gently. “Nick, it’s fine. Just… give us a minute.”
His gaze snapped to mine, searching, pleading. “Please. I’ll be fine,” I whispered.
