“I thought you knew it was just one night. It didn’t mean anything,” she says quieter this time. It’s soft—almost as if she feels bad.Almost.
My heart drops to my stomach, but I do my best to not let itshow on my face. I’ve already admitted too much. Yet, I can’t help the way my body tenses and my teeth grind together. Later, I’ll let her words sink in. Later, I’ll feel sad. Right now, I have to appear stoic, as unnatural as that is for me.
“Go finish your article, Alexandra,” I say in the most unaffected tone I can muster.
She nods her head, bending down to pick up the fallen papers, and leaves without a second glance.
14
ALLIE
I finishmy article with two minutes to spare and drop it in the shared drive. By the time I log out of my work computer, my head is throbbing and my throat feels like it’s embedded with shards of glass. But my physical ailments are nothing compared to the humiliation I feel bone-deep.
He rejected me.
Ashton rejected me.
I told myself I kissed him to shut him up because I couldn’t handle what he was saying, but the truth is I wanted him to make me forget again. Because when he touches me, the world drifts away. My fight dissolves and all that’s left is a burning need. One it seems only he can fulfill these days.
I tried. After that first time at the beach. After I left him sleeping softly on the sand as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I tried going back to seeing other people after that. People who truly meant nothing, but it didn’t work. It didn’t erasehim.
Then he kissed me, made me fall apart for him all over again, and he left. I guess I deserved it, but it still pissed me off. Enoughthat I wanted to hurt him back. Flirting with Craig was a low point. Pretending to laugh at his obnoxious innuendos and touching his chest. I feel nauseous thinking about it. At first, I thought he was just a harmless fuckboy trying to get in my pants, but he’s starting to make me uncomfortable. He seems more…I don’t know, aggressive? Maybe even a little creepy. Either way, I’m done with him. Even though it was my goal to get a rise out of Ashton, his accusation that I’m sleeping with Craig sent me into a tailspin.
What possessed me to kiss him in that moment, I’ll never know, but it doesn’t matter. He pushed me away. Herejectedme. Because he wants answers I can’t give him. Ones I can’t even give myself.
My phone buzzes, shaking me from my thoughts. I grab it from my bag as I open the car door, but my heart sinks when I see the name. I’m not sure what I was thinking. That he would call to apologize? Or to demand an apology from me? Either way, it’s not him.
“Hi Mom,” I answer, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slide into the car. I press the speaker button and prop it up in the cup holder.
“Hi, sweet pea.” Her tired voice comes through in a low whisper, so I turn the volume up to hear better.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to assume she’s in trouble or that something terrible has happened every time she calls now.
“I’m fine, honey. You don’t have to worry about me.” She’s still whispering, and that’s when I hear loud voices and cheering in the background. “I’m just over at Warner’s. I have an interview in a few minutes, but I wanted to catch you as soon as you got off work.”
I let out a relieved sigh. As much as I don’t want my mom to get a job at a rowdy sports bar in Rocky Falls, it’s the first interview she’s gotten since she lost her job almost a year ago.
“What’s the position?” I ask her, trying to keep any judgment out of my voice.
“Just bussing, but the ad said it could lead to waitressing or bartending shifts in the future.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat, but it feels worse, like the glass shards have multiplied. “That’s great, Mom,” I choke out.
“Listen, sweet pea. I can’t talk long, but…” She waits for a beat before continuing. “Celeste called me this morning.”
I grip the steering wheel, my nails digging into the worn rubber, and grit my teeth, a surge of anger working its way up my belly. Celeste Thatcher—as in my grandmother. As in the woman who abandoned her pregnant teenage daughter because she refused to give her baby up. I’m sure she would have insisted that my mother terminate the pregnancy if she had known about it in time, but my mom hid it from her until the day she gave birth. She was eighteen.
The Thatcher family is wealthy—beyond wealthy, and when their only daughter rebelled against them and rejected the arranged marriage they had set up for her, they threatened to disown her. They didn’t actually follow through with it until they found out she had a baby with a boy from the next town over. A boy with no money to his name. He had gotten into the school my mom attended on a scholarship. The one Baybridge Prep sponsors each year to make themselves look charitable. My mom has only ever told me the first part of the story. I found out about my dad’s scholarship through my own investigation.
Needless to say, Celeste flipped out when she found out about me. She gave my mother an ultimatum, and when my mom chose to keep me, she cut her off. No money. No place to live. Nothing. She left us completely destitute. We didn’t hear from her for eighteen years, and then one day she called out of the blue wanting to set me up with her friend’s nephew. Mom screamed at her and told her never to call again, but she didn’tlisten. She calls about once a year now to offer my mom money in exchange for marrying me off. The woman is a complete lunatic. She’s never even met me, for God’s sake.
“Allie. Did you hear what I said?” My mom’s soft voice comes through the speaker as I make a left turn onto the main road.
“Yes, I heard you. What did she want?”
“Oh, just to tell me that Margaret Kline’s grandson is a lawyer now and is looking for a wife, and how she’s been looking at your social media and has seen how much you have‘filled out’ recently.”
“Jesus, Mom. What did you say to her?”
