But Jake was right. I was a teenager who made a mistake. Yes, it had terrible consequences, but millions of kids have done the same and lived perfectly normal lives. My sister’s death was an accident, and while my involvement played a part in it, it wasn’t my fault.
And more importantly, Victoria would have wanted so much better for me. She was a caring and loving person who would have wanted me to live on and not let her death define the rest of my life.
Also, she would have adored Jake with his fantastic humor, great values, and uniqueness. Vicky would have pushed me into his arms as much as Hana did. She would have wanted the best for me, just like I did for her.
And the best for me is Jake. A hundred times over.
“Oh my God,” I breathe out, staring at my mother in shock. “I can’t believe it. He was right. You’ll never forgive me, will you? I’m just a puppet in your cruel hands. You want me to be miserable for the rest of my life because of what happened to Vicky.”
She blinks a few times as if caught red-handed. Her stupor doesn’t last though, and she says, “See? He’s already putting these ludicrous ideas in your mind, poisoning it. This is manipulation, Genevieve.”
“You’d know that, wouldn’t you? You’ve been toying with me since the night it happened, keeping me on the edge of guilt and remorse and convincing me I deserve to pay for what happened to Vicky. I can’t believe it took me ten years to see it.”
“Genevieve, stop this. You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” she mutters, embarrassedly looking around at the surrounding people. My voice was loud enough to attract the attention of a few of them, but I couldn’t care less.
Her concern only makes me angrier. “Oh, shut up,” I utter. “Always so worried about what others will think that you barely allow yourself to live. And you’ve imposed that on everyone around you. But I’m so done bending and contorting myself to squeeze into this perfect little box you expect all of us to fit in. I amdone, Mother.”
Maybe it’s because of what happened with Jake, or upstairs with Ralf, or more likely the ten years of tyranny I’ve endured, but there’s something in me that wants out. The freedom I’ve deprived myself of is breaking out of its cage.
“You’re a pathetic trophy wife with nothing but regrets for your own choices. So, you decided that if you’re going to be miserable, then you might as well take everyone down with you. But I’m done being the person you get to berate and ruin just to feel better about yourself. I’m your daughter, Vivienne. The only one you have left.”
“Contain yourself, Genevieve!”
“No. Fuck you. You have been mentally abusing me for adecade. And I let you because you convinced me I deserved it. But I lost someone too, you know? My sister, my half, the one person I loved the most in this world. I couldn’t even grieve her the way I needed because you never failed to remind me I did this to the family, that I had myself to blame for the ache tearing me apart.”
“Because youareresponsible! You disobeyed, and she died!”
“I was seventeen! I was a teenager who wanted to celebrate her birthday with her friends! And you refused because it was too much work for the staff. What was it to you? You had an evening at the opera anyway—Swan Lake, Vicky’s favorite. Ever thought that if you’d been a less self-centered bitch, you would have taken us along with you and Father? She would still be alive if you genuinely cared about us.”
She looks so appalled that it’s almost comical. “How dare you put the blame on me!”
“And how dare you put it on me all this time?!”
Vivienne can’t seem to find anything to reply, and even if she did, I already know it would be bullshit. I finally opened my eyes and grew a backbone.
Fuming, she picks up her bag and rises from her chair with dry and angry gestures. “Your father will hear of this, you ungrateful little brat.”
“I’m not as afraid of him as you are, you know? What’s he going to do? Stop giving me an allowance? I’m making my own money and even paid back what I owed for Harvard.”
“I cannot believe you’re doing this, Genevieve. Rejecting your entire family for a man with horrible manners and tattoos.”
“And piercings,” I can’t help but add. “In unexpected places, butGod,do they feel good.”
The redness on her face intensifies, and I can hardly believe I ever feared this woman. She looks ridiculous with that vein about to pop on her forehead. Why did I let her dictate my life for so long?
“You will regret this, you know,” she venomously spits out. “And when you come crawling because he’s found someone more interesting than you, don’t expect us to take you back.”
“Perfect. Don’t wait on me.”
Now that she’s tried everything and failed, she gives up with a frustrated huff and turns her heels around. I watch her disappear, feeling infinitely lighter than I did upon entering the coffee shop. I pick up my tea and take a sip, grimacing at the taste. No, this isn’t for me at all.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gen
Still reeling from what happened, my eyes mindlessly stare beyond the glass wall that separates the coffee place from NexaCorp’s hall. When I catch a glimpse of three familiar figures, my attention latches on them.
What happens next might be because of the adrenaline still pumping in my veins, or because I’m done being a pushover. I’m barely aware that I stand up from my chair, but before I know it, I’m out of the coffee shop. Even as I rush through the vast hallway, I’m not sure of what I’m about to do.
