I bit the inside of my cheek. “Fine. One drink. But only if you eat something.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Surprise me.”
Thirty minutes later, I placed a plate ofVitello Osso Bucoin front of her, one of her favorites. She barely looked at it. Just stirred her drink with her straw, staring into the glass as if it held all the answers to her miserable life.
I waited, but when she didn’t acknowledge me, I sighed. “Well, enjoy. I need to g?—”
“Thefamouspasta,” she suddenly muttered, finally looking up. Her eyes were glassy now, unfocused. “Isn’t that what your man is known for? The pasta?”
“Yes, we make it fresh every day.
She laughed. Loudly. A deep, hysterical laugh that made my stomach sink.
I clenched my fists.Please don’t do this here. Not tonight.
She waved a hand at me, still laughing so hard that tears spilled from her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” More laughter. “You—this place—” She gasped for air, gripping the edge of the table.
I swallowed, my nails biting into my palms. “What, Mother?What’s so funny?”
She wiped her eyes, shaking her head. “The sign saysfine dining.” Another breathless chuckle. “Before, this place would’ve been a fuckingMcDonald’sto us. I mean, the most expensive plate here is, what?Forty-five dollars?That used to be thecost of our appetizers.And you—” She lifted the plate before dropping it back onto the table with a loud clatter, drawing the attention of nearby diners.
Bile burned up my throat. “Mom, either be grateful and eat it, or I’m taking you home. Now.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Grateful.That’srich, coming from you. I gave you agreatlife, got us off the streets, and now you’re telling me I have to let it all go because my husband wanted tofuckyou?”
The words hit like a bullet to the chest.
Pain.Sharp, unrelenting pain.
Nick was suddenly beside me, his hand warm on my back. “Is there a problem?” His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with quiet fury.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
Finally, I managed to whisper, “I need to take my mom home.”
He nodded. “I’ll cover for you.”
I barely muttered athanksbefore telling my mother to wait in the car.
As I closed out, Robert stopped me. “Hey, you okay?”
I forced a small laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… could use a drink.”
He smiled knowingly. “Rough night?”
“You could say that.”
“Well,” he said, slipping me a wad of cash, “here’s a little something for your trouble.”
I blinked. “Oh, no, that’s okay. That was my mom, actually.”
His face fell slightly. “Ah. I see.”
I shrugged, shoving the money back toward him. “She’s just going through a lot right now.”
He nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. Like he understood something I didn’t.
“So,” he said, his voice softer now, “is your mom the only one who visits?”
