“He’ll get bored,” Victoria continues, her voice matter-of-fact, like she’s discussing the weather. “Perhaps not immediately. But eventually, he’ll want someone who can move in his world. Someone from a good family, with proper connections and education. Someone who doesn’t cook for a living.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “So you might want to stop fooling yourself into thinking he has serious feelings for you. You’re temporary. A phase. And the sooner you accept that, the less it will hurt when he inevitably moves on.”
I want to argue. Want to defend myself, defend what River and I are building together. Want to tell her that she’s wrong, that her son is nothing like her, that he doesn’t care about social class or connections or any of the shallow things that define her world.
But the words don’t come out. Because deep down, in the parts of myself I try not to examine too closely, I’m terrified she’s right.
Victoria must see something in my face—some flicker of doubt or fear—because her smile sharpens. “That’s what I thought.”
She turns and walks toward the taxi with precise, measured steps. The driver moves to open the back door for her.
The front door of the house opens, and River emerges, struggling with Victoria’s largest suitcase. His hair is disheveled, and there’s tension in his shoulders I can see from here.
“Mother, wait—” He hefts the suitcase down the front steps.
Victoria has already positioned herself by the open taxi door, far enough away that River won’t know she just spit her vitriol all over me. She watches him approach with that same cool expression.
“Thank you, darling,” she says as he loads the suitcase into the trunk.
River straightens, and for a moment they just look at each other. Then he opens his arms and pulls her into a polite hug—the kind you give distant relatives at family gatherings. Stiff and obligatory.
“I’m sorry you chose to leave instead of agreeing to my terms,” River says, and his voice is carefully neutral.
Victoria extracts herself from the hug and air-kisses both his cheeks, making sure not to actually touch him with her lips. “I’ll be waiting for you to take your proper place in the family,darling. When you’re ready to stop this nonsense and come home, you can call me.”
“This is my home.”
“For now.” She smooths down her jacket. “But everyone grows up eventually, River. Even you.”
She slides into the back of the taxi without another word, and the driver closes the door behind her. Within seconds, the taxi is backing out of the driveway, carrying Victoria Stone and her poisonous words away.
River stands there watching until the taxi disappears down the street. Then he exhales—this long, heavy breath that sounds like he’s been holding it for hours. Maybe days.
I move toward him, concern overriding the churning mess of emotions Victoria left behind. “Are you okay?”
He turns to look at me, and there’s exhaustion written across his features. But he nods. “Yeah. It’s for the best.”
“What happened?” I ask gently. “Why did she leave?”
River runs both hands through his hair, making it stand up in several directions. “She came here to collect me. Like I’m a stray dog that wandered off.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “She wants me to come back to California. Enrolled me at Stanford—in their MBA program, starting in the fall—without even asking if that’s what I wanted.”
My stomach drops. “She enrolled you? Without your permission?”
“That’s not even the best part.” His jaw tightens. “When I told her I wasn’t going, that I’m staying here to finish my documentary, she threatened to remove me from her will. Said if I’m going to throw my life away on this ‘filmmaking nonsense,’ I can do it without the family money.”
The words hit me like ice water. His inheritance. She’s threatening to cut him off financially because he won’t do what she wants.
And suddenly Victoria’s words echo louder in my mind.You’re temporary. The sooner you accept that, the less it will hurt.
“River,” I say, but I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I’m sorry? That’s terrible? Your mother is manipulative and cruel?
All of it is true, but none of it feels adequate.
He must see something in my face because he reaches out and takes my hand. “Hey. It’s okay. I don’t care about the money.”
But you should, I think. You should care that you’re giving up your financial security. And you’re doing it partly because of me—because standing up to your mother meant defending me, and now she’s punishing you for it.
“Come on,” River says, tugging me gently toward the house. “Let’s go inside. I could really use a distraction right now.”
I follow him through the front door, Victoria’s words playing on repeat in my head.He’ll get bored. You’re beneath him. Stop fooling yourself.
