Last night, during my outburst and complete breakdown, I’d seen something in his eyes. Something I hadn’t seen since I got married to him. Humanity. Raw. Real. Unadulterated.
And when he showed concern about my mother’s health—genuineconcern—all my frustrations flew out the window. It was like looking at a whole new person. A different version of himself, one with emotions and proper feelings.
I wasn’t sure what changed him. Was it because I ran away, or something else? What exactly was behind this overnight transformation?
“Is he your boyfriend?” Mom’s soft voice sliced through my thoughts.
“Huh?” I blinked, anchoring myself back to the present.
She beamed at me. “He’s the reason you haven’t come visiting, isn’t he?”
My cheeks flushed. I didn’t know why, but they did.
She had no idea what was happening: the marriage, the drama, the war. None of it. And it was better that way. She wasway too fragile right now. It would be unwise to dump all of that on her.
Hopefully, by the time she was discharged from the hospital, we’d already have taken care of the situation. When the storm was over, we’d tell her the truth. But for now, it was best that she remain in the dark.
“How’re you coping with her?” Mom asked Adrik, who stood across her bed, arms crossed. “She’s a handful, this one. Stubborn as a mule.”
“Mom!” I wore a fake scowl, my brows knitting together.
“What?” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the truth. He needs to know what he’s getting into.”
Adrik stepped forward with a smile. An actual smile. Not his usual foreboding smirk. “You’re right. Sheisa handful.”
“It takes one to know one,” I chipped in, stealing a glance at him.
She laughed. Then coughed, gently tapping her chest. “Well, in that case, I guess you two are a perfect match.”
Adrik and I glanced at each other for a moment, and I felt it. The charge. The strange pull between us.
Mom was leaner than before. Almost like a shadow of herself. Her eyes were sunken, her collarbones were more visible, and her hands were trembling on their own.
Seeing her like this broke something inside me, but I was grateful that she was alive. That she had the chance to fight this illness. This was the one good thing that Richard Beaumont had done for her in a really long time.
Even though I played a huge role in moving her to a better facility, he still held up his own end of the bargain. Richard might’ve been a cruel bastard, but he’d proven to be a man of his word.
“Emi.” Mom reached out and held my hand, her voice soft and warm. “Are you happy?” She looked right into my eyes.
That question caught me off guard, and I had no idea how to respond. A lot was going on at the time, and it was hard to place my emotions or define my feelings.
I swallowed hard and said, “Yes.”
Her dry lips curved into a broad smile, her fingers curling around mine. “That’s all that matters to me.”
I felt my tear glands charging up, but I wouldn’t let her see me cry. I wasn’t going to rob her of that smile and the joy in her heart. I had so much to tell her, but now wasn’t the time.
“I can’t wait for you to get out of here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too, baby. Me too.” She paused, staring at me like she’d just remembered something.
Oh, God, no.
I knew exactly what she was going to ask, and I wasn’t ready for that.
“How were you able to afford my treatment?” Her voice was laced with curiosity.
“Uh….” My brain went blank for a second.
