“Hey, little man, did you have fun with your sister?” Harry asks, taking the baby from me and pulling him into his chest.Lifting his gaze back to me, Harry smiles. “How are you doing, Starling?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I say politely. Despite him basically being my stepdad, I barely know him. He started dating my mom after they met for the first time, and since then, I’ve associated him with her. I’m pretty close to Sebastian, Hunter, and Clay’s parents, but I’ve kept my distance from Harry.
“Your mom would love it if you and Sebastian would come for dinner. Evan and Sammy could come too, if that’d make it easier,” Harry says, his voice low and gruff, his words polite, but with a hint of an order behind the cordiality.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You have a brother now. He deserves to get a chance to know you.”
“You and Lysander are welcome to come visit us whenever you want.”
“But not your mom.”
“No, I’d prefer it if Cassidy wasn’t involved.”
“She’s sorry, Starling.”
“Is she?” I question coldly. “Because she’s never told me that. She’s told me that she knew Sebastian and I would end up together. She’s said that she wishes I hadn’t cut her out of my life. She’s said that she regrets the miscommunication when she told me I either came back to Sebastian or I wasn’t her daughter anymore. But she’s never said I’m sorry. She’s never taken responsibility for picking a man and money over her own flesh and blood.” My heart starts to beat erratically in my chest as my voice gets louder and louder with each word I say.
“Your mom is a complicated woman,” Harry says, like that is a defense.
“Would you choose my mom over Evan or Lysander?” I demand.
Sucking in a breath, Harry straightens to his full height.
“Would you give them an ultimatum, then cut them out of your life?” I push angrily.
His jaw tics, but he stays silent.
“Would you?” I push again.
“No. I wouldn’t,” he unhappily concedes.
“Exactly.”
“She wasn’t in a good place. She thought she was doing the right thing and I?—”
Interrupting him, I cut off his excuses. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I don’t want to hear it. I know exactly what it’s like to fall under the thrall of a man like you. I married one,” I say bitterly. “But when I saw something happening that was so wrong it made me feel sick, I didn’t sit back and wither. I forced my backbone to snap straight, and I did something. I put my marriage at risk to stand up for what I believed. Cassidy didn’t. She didn’t fight. She didn’t try. So don’t make excuses for her. I’m not stupid. I know that Sebastian is a manipulative asshole, and I’m sure you’re just as bad, if not worse. After all, you’ve had a lot more practice, but no matter how under your thumb she was, no matter how enamored she was with the life you and the others offered her, she still knew what she did to me was wrong. This is the consequence of her actions. We all have to live with them, and just because she’s weak-willed doesn’t excuse her from having to deal with the choices she made. You did what you had to do. You helped your bonus kid because he and his band of merry sociopaths asked you to. I don’t know if you fell for Cassidy before or after they asked you to manipulate her. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I understand your choice to help destroy her relationship with me. But she gave birth to me. She raised me for sixteen years. She doesn’t get to act like an asshole and then pretend it didn’t happen just because Sebastian and I found some happiness in the wreckage you people made of my life.”
Not waiting for him to respond, I turn and walk away, grabbing a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket on the counter in the kitchen and making my way outside. I don’t stop until I hit the sand, plopping down on my butt before I rip off the foil and cage and fire the cork down the beach, bringing the bottle to my lips and swallowing down the bubbles as they fill my mouth.
Staring out at the crashing waves, I suck in slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down. But my hands are shaking as I bring the champagne back to my lips for another drink.
“I didn’t think baby showers were those kinds of parties, but fuck, if they are, Sammy is going to be seriously pissed about not being able to drink,” Evan says, sitting down beside me and taking the bottle from my hand, lifting it to his lips to take a swig.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell Evan, stealing the bottle back.
“Oh, we don’t need to. The entire house heard you ripping my dad a new asshole.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” he says, taking the bottle again for another drink before handing it back. “I take it therapy hasn’t magically solved your mommy issues?”
“Fuck you, Evan.”
“Not Big Bro? You wound me, Little Sis.”
“If you want to keep those brother privileges, you better not start telling me why I need to forgive my mom and move on like we’re all one big happy family. Because I only just learned to like you, it wouldn’t take much to tip me back to hating you again,” I warn him.
