"Where was I supposed to send the invitation?" Mama snapped. "It seems I misplaced your address."
"Did you misplace my phone number, too?" She blinked, trying to conceal her surprise. Never in my life had I spoken to my mother this way. "You didn't call. You didn't text. You didn't respond to any of my messages."
"What did you expect, Clarke?"
"I expected you to love me!" I yelled. "I expected you to support me. To trust me to make my own decisions. To try, and fail, and learn from my mistakes. To treat me like a human being, not a living, breathing doll."
"I don't have time for this," Daddy said, tearing down the hallway. "I told you this was a waste of time."
"Daddy, please—"
"I'll be in the car."
His patent-leather footsteps echoed down the hall, growing quieter and quieter until, finally, all that remained was bitter silence.
"You're asking for too much," Mama finally said. Much as I loathed to admit it, as a woman, I had a lot of empathy for my mother. As a daughter, however, I had a lot of anger.
"No, Mama," I said sadly, mourning the fact that this would most likely be the last time we spoke. "I'm asking for the bare minimum."
I clung to Soren's hand, willing back the tears, the pain, until all that was left was numbness. Only when she spun and began to walk away in her three inch heels—Mama never wore anything less than three inches— did the weight of it all finally come crashing back down on me.
The past few months had been packed with firsts, each more memorable than the last, and yet, this . . . This was a last. The last time I let them make me feel this way. Less than. Unworthy. The last time I watched them walk away from me, from our family. This was it. I was done. The purse strings had been cut months ago, but now went the final emotional tie.
I only hoped I didn't float away.
There was only one bed.
I thought that kind of thing only happened in romance novels. Nessa was going to have a field day with this one. As soon as Ifound the will to text her. As soon as I found the will to breathe again.
Maybe everybody's sister was having a baby tonight in Asheville. Even then, everybody didn't have a hot, bulky baseball player sharing their bed.
When we got to the hotel, I showered first while Soren scavenged for something to eat. There wasn't much open this late, just a twenty-four-hour gas station. I'd come out to find a mountain of snack foods and sports drinks stacked in the center of our bed.
"Just leave me a Ding Dong, would you?" he asked before closing himself in the bathroom to shower.
After everything he'd given me in the last six hours, I'd say a pack of chocolate snack cakes was the least I could offer him.
By the time he finished, I had already climbed into bed. He clicked off the light and slid under the sheets, tucking his body close to mine but hesitating. We'd shared a bed. Many times. We'd also slept together without having sex. Not as many times, but still.
Thiswas uncharted territory, one without a map or rules.
One of us needed to make a choice, make a move, and I could tell by Soren's stiffness and the space between us that he was leaving it entirely up to me. And frankly, it was a no-brainer.
For the first twenty-seven years of my life, I'd chosen my family.
For the last few months, I'd chosen me.
But tonight, I chose us. Even if it was just for tonight.
I sat up, stripping off my T-shirt until I was bare from the waist up.
"Be sure, blondie."
I slid my panties off and climbed onto his lap, rubbing myself against his protruding erection.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything," I told him, breaking off into a gasp when one of his fingers entered me, followed quickly by another. He swirled them around inside of me, coating my pussy from the inside out.
“Oh, Clarke." I shivered when he said my name. I liked it when he called me blondie, but Ilovedit when he growled my name. “Of course, it means something. It'salwaysfucking meant something.”
