And then, as though my mouth has no idea what’s good for me, I hear myself say, “I was actually thinking of taking a sabbatical.”
My mom is quiet for a beat long enough to stop my heart, then she says, her voice so low I can barely make it out, “A… sabbatical?”
“Yeah. It’s like, taking some time?—”
“Iknowwhat a sabbatical is, Lacey. What I’m wondering is what in the world would possess you to think that would be a good idea? A sabbatical — and for what? To waste away in Montana?”
I want to tell her that, with Max’s cooking, and without my habit of skipping lunch and dinner with meal replacement drinks, I’ve actually filled out a bit since getting here. I can tell in the way Max’s gaze lingers on my breasts and ass that I’m changing, and I like it.
“Well,” I clear my throat, knowing I have to tell her about Max and not wanting to. “I?—”
She figures it out before I can get to the truth, and I realize I should have said something to her a long time before this. That I never should have let things get this serious with Max without mentioning it to my mom.
Because now, it looks like I’ve been keeping something from her.
And keeping something from her means that I’ve been doing something wrong.
“LaceyNicoleAarons. Please tell me my intuition is wrong. Please tell me you are not risking your position at the company for aman. I’m sure Gaia is already not happy with how long you’ve been gone. How do you think you’re going to add a sabbatical to that?”
Feeling slightly petulant, I cross my arms. “Actually, they just offered me a promotion, so it’s not like?—”
“When did they offer you a promotion? And why didn’t you tell me about it?”
I stall, knowing it’s as good as admitting I’m guilty. Deep down, I know this doesn’t make sense — that I’m a grown woman and I shouldn’t be reacting to my mother like this. But it’s always been this way. Her focus on my success is sometimes too narrow-minded to even consider my feelings, too.
“Lacey,” she says, and her voice drops down to something softer. I can hear the worry in her voice, and it lowers some of my defenses. “Please tell me that you’re at least… thinking this through.Pleasedon’t leave your high-paying position at your dream company for a man without at least considering every angle. And talking to me about it.”
Tears well up in my eyes. Growing up, this is what I heard again and again. That I would need to be careful around men. That they might say they loved me, get me pregnant, and disappear. Just like what happened to my mom.
This isn’t coming from a place of malice. It’s coming from a place of fear.
“Okay, I will. I promise I’m not going to jump into this thing.”
“Did you turn down the job?” she asks, voice thin.
“… no,” I admit, because as much as I’m enjoying my time in Montana, I still haven’t been able to send that final email. “It’s not like I’m giving up on my career, Mom. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be here for a few more months and decide I hate it. Gaia has already told me they need me. I know I’ll have a place there for as long as I want it, and you know I love working there. It’s my dream. It’s not like I’m jumping into this with no backup plan. Hell, I’ll probably come crawling home to you soon.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she breathes, but she sounds more relaxed, and I feel sick. Even though what I said wasn’t an outright lie, it definitely wasn’t truthful.
I’m not going back to San Francisco. At least, not to live there. I can feel it in my bones, the truth that I can’t give this place up. Not when I have Max.
Maybe my mom sees that as giving up on my job and current life, but I see it as moving toward something better. Jasper left me this cabin for a reason, and I’m taking full advantage of the opportunity this has given me.
We trade a few more things back and forth until my stomach starts roiling from the guilt of lying, and I have to get off the phone with her before I get sick.
CHAPTER 22
MAX
Lacey doesn’t even realize I’m standing on her porch.
It’s not like I meant to eavesdrop, but when I pulled up and saw the abandoned coffee, still steaming into the early morning air, I’d thought the worst. I’d thought that, somehow, even with everything she’s learned while renovating this cabin, she might have done something stupid like drilling into an electrical wire again.
But she wasn’t doing anything dangerous or rash. She was on the phone, and from listening, I could tell it was with her mom.
Talking about how much she loves her job. And how she’ll probably only spend a few more months in Montana before crawling back home to San Francisco.
My intention had been to knock, to come inside and let her know I was here while she finished her conversation, but hearing that rooted me to the spot, where I listened through the screen door, only catching glimpses of her.
