“It was tough for you,” she said. “I get that, Mom.”
“But knowing about the memory box hurt you. I know you were feeling dismissed and unimportant, and then finding out that we were going to name her Victoria...” Ava looked at her. “It’s a family name on your father’s side. If we had a girl, she was always going to be Victoria. That was what your father wanted. It was never because we didn’t want you or couldn’t be bothered.”
Victoria did her best not to flinch. She didn’t want to think about finding out that she had gotten someone else’s leftover name. That particular wound was still a little too fresh to talk about.
“I get it,” she said, not sure if she was lying or telling the truth.
Ava didn’t look convinced, but she also didn’t push back on the topic. “Your father and I were both in shock and in mourning. We’d lost our baby and didn’t know what to do. Starting over seemed impossible. Then your birth mother came to us and asked if we’d like to adopt you. It was an unexpected moment of light in a time of total darkness.”
Victoria smiled. “You’re not usually so poetic, Mom. Andyou don’t have to lie. I know you weren’t ready to take on another child. I understand that you could have intellectually agreed while your heart was still broken. I get you didn’t love me for a while.”
She spoke carefully, keeping a barrier between herself and the words so she could say them without feeling them. It was the only way to protect herself and be safe.
“Of course we loved you,” her mother protested. “We were so grateful to have you. You’ve been a blessing in our lives, and you’ve made us happy.”
Victoria managed a smile. “Really? A blessing? Don’t you think that’s laying it on a little thick?”
“It’s true. We love you. I love you. I want you to know that.”
“I do, Mom. I know that you love me.”
Which was the truth. The problem was sometimes she only knew it in her head but couldn’t feel it in her heart.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Thank you. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? Because it seems like you’re still dealing with a lot.” Ava hesitated. “I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Victoria held in a bark of laughter. “Ah, thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.”
Talk to her mother? Like that was ever going to happen.
19
“I’m not going to be very good company,” Victoria said as she let Javiar into her condo.
He’d texted earlier, asking to stop by for the evening. She’d agreed because she was dealing with a lot of unresolved emotions, and he would be a nice distraction. Sex would be better, but Javiar seemed determined to hold out on her so she didn’t have a lot of hope that she would get laid anytime soon.
“What’s the problem?” he asked, walking in and lightly kissing her cheek before setting down a large shopping bag.
“My mother and writer’s block.”
His dark eyes immediately lit up. “You’re a writer? You never said. What are you writing? A novel? A screenplay?”
She held in a groan. Blurting out something she generally kept quiet was proof that she wasn’t right in the head. Come to think of it, lately she’d been blabbing the fact to practically everyone she met. A testament to being really messed up emotionally and possibly in other ways she didn’t want to define, she thought grimly.
“It’s a screenplay, and no, you can’t read it. Right now I’m convinced it totally sucks. I want to be wrong about that, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been avoiding my critique group, which is stupid because they can help. Worse, Ella, the leader of the group, said if I don’t show up at the next session I’m out.”
He studied her for a long time. “You don’t want to be kicked out, so you have to write or edit or whatever it is you need to be doing. But all the emotional stuff from your mom is getting in the way. Makes sense.”
She glared at him. “Oh my God! You’re insightful. That isn’t anything I like in a man.”
He flashed her a sexy smile. “Most women like that I’m insightful. It makes them think I’m sensitive and possibly brooding.”
“You’re a sales guy. Sales guys don’t brood.”
“True, but come on, with my good looks I can play the part.”
