“I told her to fuck off, of course!” I startle slightly as I make the next turn. Mom rarely curses, and it always catches me off guard when she does.
“Damn, I’m sorry. I thought I had blocked her.”
“First of all, don’t ever apologize for anything that woman does. Secondly, there is no blocking Celeste Thatcher. She always finds a way.”
“I know.”
“Listen, honey.” There’s a muffled sound and then she speaks again, her voice even more of a whisper. “When I turned her down, she mentioned she had another proposition for me. One of my father’s clients, who was recently divorced, needs someone to take to events. She said she would pay me for my time. ”
I swerve the car when I realize I almost passed my street and nearly crash into a tree on the side of the road. “What?” I yell. “You have to be fucking kidding me. She wants you to be some rich guy’s arm candy? What the hell does she get out of that?”
“Allie, calm down.” She sounds worried. “What was that screeching sound?”
“Nothing. Look, Mom. You can’t do that. You said you were done with men after…”
“I know,” she cuts me off. “I need the money, Allie. I can’t keep taking yours.”
“You have an interview.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t…I didn’t have to fill out all the paperwork to get the interview. If they want to hire me, I’ll have to tell them.”
My heart sinks, the shards in my throat cutting deeper. My mother has been unable to get a job for the past six months because she’s a convicted felon. It feels so weird to even think about. My mother—who has never even gone a mile above the speed limit—is a convicted felon.
It doesn’t matter that it was self-defense. Or that the douchebag deserved worse than what he got. Personally, I would have cut the fucker’s dick off and hand-fed it to him bit by bit, so he got off pretty easy with a lamp to the head. He didn’t even have the decency to die. But like I said, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that no one believed her. So she served time for defending herself against a monster. Funny, in all the books I read growing up, the heroes fight the monsters, not help them. Guess they were wrong.
I’ve never told anyone about my mom’s stint in prison—not even Emory. But Celeste somehow found out, and she’s been holding it over my mother’s head ever since, saying she could pull strings to get the felony dropped from my mom’s permanent record so she can get a job.
“Mom,” I say firmly. “We will figure it out. In the meantime, I’m making more than enough to help you out. Please don’t humor her. She’ll never stop if you show even the slightest interest.”
“I know, sweet pea?—”
“Please, Mom. Promise me.” I’m begging her now, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that there are probably going to be permanent marks where my nails are digging into the rubber. “Promise me you won’t do it.”
She must hear the desperation in my voice because she sighs deeply and simply says, “I promise.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out, relief flooding my system. “We will deal with this together. Just like we always do.”
“I love you, sweet pea.” She takes a shuddering breath like she’s trying to hold back tears. “I have to go.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
Then she’s gone. Every single tear I had been holding back while I was on the phone comes to the surface at once. I remove my glasses and wipe my eyes, black smudges from my mascara forming on the back of my hand. That’s when it all comes back, the memories slamming into my chest like a freight train. The last time I cried. The last time I let myself give in to the pain. Black streaks running down my face. His warm hand coming to my back. I tried to shrug him off, but he brought it back again and that’s when I allowed myself to fall into him. My best friend stood there accusing me of betraying her, and I didn’t even have the guts to tell her about what my mom went through. I knew how her story would have ended if she had stayed with her ex. Like my mom. Or worse.
Wiping the last tear from my eye, I put the car in reverse and back out of the ditch.
Laughter floats through the frigid night air as I exit my car. There’s a soft glow coming from Emory and Luke’s cottage, and I can see them through the window. Luke is holding a glass of something and is attempting to get Emory to drink it. One of his green smoothies, I’m guessing. He’s been making them ever since they found out Em is slightly anemic. Emory hates them, but that doesn’t stop Luke from trying to get her to drink the concoctions because her doctor said she needs more iron and the mere sight of meat makes her nauseous. Emory pushes his hand away, and the drink spills onto the front of his shirt. He looks down, swipes a finger through it, and tastes it before tapping hernose with the same finger. She feigns anger, and he sweeps her up in his arms like a bride.
“Now you’ve done it, woman,” he says, trying to sound stern, but there’s nothing but love and softness in his tone.
Emory’s giggles fade away as he carries her further into the house, presumably to the bedroom.
My lips turn up in a half-smile. I’ll never have what they have, but it brings me comfort to know that Emory got her happy ever after. It makes me think there’s hope. Not for me, of course. I’m a lost cause. But for my mother. She deserves happiness, and I’m going to do everything I can to give her a fighting chance at it.
15
ASHTON
For the thirdtime this month, I’m standing in front of Allie Montgomery’s door wondering what the hell I’m doing. She called out “sick” again this morning, and I lost my shit. Every time we have a conversation she doesn’t like, she avoids me or calls out, and I’m done with her disappearing act. She’s going to face this. We’re going to face it because clearly avoiding it hasn’t worked out for either of us.
