The glare my mom sent him could’ve peeled paint.
But Mal didn’t care. He gave me a squeeze and sat back into the chair, completely at ease.
She sent me an incredulous look. Like Mal was the one in the wrong.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Mom.” I sighed. “Yesterday wasn’t the first time a gun was shoved against my temple because of Trent. And you didn’t seem to give a shit. I told you all the dirty details of what his scary Russian bookie did, and you still chose to back Trent.”
My mom looked away, totally abashed at the reminder of her failings.
“’It’s a misunderstanding, Saylor.’ ‘You should forgive him.’ ‘He’s going to get help.’” My laugh was harsh. It still pissed me off to remember all the ways she’d gaslit me. My own mother. “Trent Hale didn’t give a shit for anyone except for himself.”
“And the high he was chasing with his gambling,” Mal chipped in.
I nodded, acknowledging his point. “Trent put me in danger back then, and you didn’t care. You seemed more upset that I was canceling the wedding than the fact that I’d been attacked and held at gunpoint. What kind of mother does that?”
“A poor one,” my mom whispered, staring down at her hands.
“So you see why it’s hard for me to believe that you’ve suddenly seen the light? But I guess my side is more believable this time because I made the six o’clock news last night.”
She raised her eyebrows and sent me a look. “I won’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt finding out about another life-changing moment in your life from the news.”
Shifting the blame to me.
Again.
Mal twitched, and I clutched his hand to keep him from reaching for my mom.
“Do you know who I asked the police to call when it became clear that this moron turned his phone off?” I asked. Mal stiffened under me, and I ran a reassuring hand down his arm. I wasn’t still angry about the missed phone calls; that wasn’t the point here.
Mom shook her head. “Clearly not me.”
“I asked them to call Mal’s mom.”
Mom jolted like she’d taken a bullet.
“Because I knew Judy would show up and just be there for me. She wouldn’t come in with an agenda and make me feel like anything that’d happened was my fault.” I leaned forward and pointed at my mom. “Because that’s the kind of mother Judy Holt is. She loves her kids unconditionally, and I’m so freaking privileged to be one of them now.”
Mom wiped at the tears streaking down her cheeks. “Like I said, Saylor. I’ve had to face some really harsh truths lately, and clearly I’m not done because all this is like a slap to the face.”
“Me sharing my feelings is a slap to the face, Mom?” I blinked. “Seriously?”
She nodded.
“How do you think I’ve felt for the past…forever really? This isn’t something new. This is just the final straw, actually.”
“Saylor, no. Don’t—don’t say something you’ll regret.” She moved forward on the cushion and reached out to me. “Some words can’t be unsaid.”
“Like telling me my dreams were stupid? That designing clothes was a pipedream? Or how I was the irresponsible one because I canceled my wedding? I keep disappointing you over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this.”
“Now that’s not fair. I apologized.”
“While continuing to blame me in the same breath. Coming at me with a half-assed apology isn’t making me feel any better about our relationship. Until or unless something changes on your end, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s time for you to go. And I don’t know…see a therapist or something. I’ll even go to a session with you. But you need to do some work that will make me believe you care about me and our relationship.”
Mal tipped forward, peeking around my side to get my mom’s attention. “PS, giving an interview tothe Babbleror any news organization is not a sign of change and will only piss me off more.”
