“You said it. Not me,” Mom mumbles.
I would let Clover drain every single one of my accounts dry. In fact, the thought of her carelessly spending my money turns me on in a way that I can’t think too much about in front of our mothers. “All right, well, now you both know.” And it honestly pisses me off.
Our little bubble has burst. Reality is creeping in, getting tooclose, and I don’t like it. Admitting all this to our mothers feels like we’re just a couple of reckless teenagers, but I love Clover. I loved her even when I didn’t know how to. I don’t care that this started as the means to an end or that this was always meant to be temporary, because I’m not letting her go. Not without a fight.
Beth and my mom both look ready to say more, but something in my expression discourages them.
“I think we should heat up this soup,” Beth eventually says. “We can all sleep on this new information. It’s been a lot for one night.”
I can see in the way her lips purse that my mother wants to protest, but she eventually nods and I help her gather up the bowls to put in the microwave.
We both stand there in the kitchen, waiting in silence for the timer to go off.
“You should’ve asked me,” she says quietly. “I cannot believe you let Clover think that her only option was to tie herself down like that.”
The soup is done but I’m standing there, frozen with guilt and anger and… Why would I expect anything less than her disappointment? There are so many things she could say to me in this moment that could bring us closer together, but instead, she’s pushing me just out of reach.
As we eat, there are a few words of praise for Mallory’s recipe, but those are the only sounds other than metal clinking against glass.
Beth excuses herself first and Clover walks her to the door while I clear the table rather than talk to my mother.
When Clover returns, she hovers beside me in the kitchen and tries to take over, but there isn’t much for her to do. She’s fidgeting and antsy. I know she’s eager to leave.
“Almost ready to go,” I whisper to her.
The doorbell rings and we share a brief look before both heading to the door as my mom files in behind us.
A very damp Beth steps inside. “There’s a tree down in front of the gate. I don’t think any of us are going anywhere tonight.”
CHAPTER 29
Bennett
Beth takes one of the rooms downstairs, and Clover and I are left to the second floor.
My mother walks her to a guest room and leaves her with one of my old T-shirts and sweatpants. She makes a point to lead me out of the room and close the door behind us.
“Wearemarried,” I remind Mother. “Should I go out to the—?”
She shakes her head. “Just take your old room for the night.”
We say good night and I think for too long about whether I should hug her, but then the moment passes.
I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed for less than two minutes when there’s a knock at my door.
Clover steps in, wearing only my T-shirt. The neck is stretched and it hangs down to the middle of her thighs, pulled taut over her hips. “It felt weird being in bed by myself.”
I hold my arms out for her, and she shuffles in, crowding between my knees. She lets me envelop her and after a minute of simplylistening to me breathe, she looks around and asks, “What happened to all your stuff?”
“My mom moved me into the guesthouse when I graduated.”
She snorts. “This place isn’t big enough for the two of you?”
I lean back so I can see her as I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think seeing it empty just made her really sad after a while.”
“Can we go see it?” she asks. “Is it very different?”
“You’ll get all wet,” I tell her.
