I want to scream, cry, but all I can do is try to stop my hands from shaking.
Ben rises, shoulders squared in that quiet, lethal way of his, and stands between us.
"That's enough," he says, voice smooth but dangerous. "Do not speak to her like this. She is a grown woman, and her choices are hers. They have nothing to do with what you want."
He pulls me into him, his hand firm on my shoulder.
For a blink, I see uncertainty flash across my mother's face as she looks up at him, maybe even fear. She's never looked small in front of me before, but she can smell it now—power she didn't account for.
Still, she chins up, spitting more venom. "How dare you speak to me like that? You have no decency. She's married to a respectable man. Someone you'll never measure up to."
"Stop it," I grind out, my jaw so tight it might snap.
Ben snorts an amused laugh, right in her face. "I wouldn'twant to measure up to a psychopath like that."
"Say what you want to make yourself feel better," she snaps. "You're not serious—not a marriage material."
Ben snorts, amused and unfazed. Then he gives her a daring face, smirking. "I'll prove you wrong. When I marry your daughter, we'll send you a postcard with our happy faces on the mantel, because you won't be invited."
Her eyes flash, her neck craning at him. "She'll marry you over my dead body! She'll go back to Richard. And you—you go where you belong. Stop playing with her life."
"He's not playing with me!" I cut in.
She doesn't even register me, keeps firing at Ben. "I knew you'd be bad for her the moment I saw you."
"Stop it. Stop it!" I shout.
"Men like you—" her eyes slash toward him, lips pursed, "—you come, you take. Sweet words, pretty gestures. When you're done, you'll leave, and you won't look back."
"Mom!" I bark. "You don't know him!"
"I know men like him!" she snaps. "He's the type to make you pregnant and then vanish!"
"I said enough! Shut up! Shut up!Shutup!"The words tear out of me before I even know I'm yelling. They rattle the empty walls, the cabinets, the air itself, even my throat—raw and burning.
Ben stiffens, stunned by the intensity of my fury.
My mother goes wide-eyed, momentarily so startled she seems terrified of me. She knows she pushed too far—even though she's never seen me like this before. For once, she shutsup.
I step forward, my heart drumming in my throat, but Ben's hand finds mine.
"Emma, it's alright," he says carefully, trying to calm me down. "She's angry. You're angry. Don't do anything stupid."
"No." I shake my head sharply. "I'm going to do the only thing I should've done years ago."
The kitchen tilts as I cross to her, and I realize that even in her heels, she's way smaller than me. I never noticed it before.
"I've had enough of you," I spit out, meeting her eyes head-on. "Don't you fucking dare talk to him like that."
Her mouth drops open, face going instantly red. "What did you just tell me?"
"You heard me," I say, enunciating every word. My eyes narrow. "Don't. You. Fucking. Dare."
She blinks, about a million times, and clutches her chest. "I can't believe that's how you speak to your mother."
"You're my mother?" A bitter snort escapes me. It kills me to say what I'm about to, but the rage overrides it. "Mothers don't do what you do. You suffocated me my whole life—with words, and random punishments. Terrorized my brain to this day because it's ingrained in my mind that I'm never enough and no one will love me. You were supposed to protect me, but you made me small! Because you're an empty, miserable woman who hates herself."
Her eyes flash furiously, but it's my turn to bulldoze right over her, even as the tears start watering my eyes.
