Because that was real.
“This is good,” he said, voice low and warm and tired.
Something fluttered in the base of my throat. “It’s literally just pasta, Ledger.”
I did not want to make a big deal out of this.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s good.”
We didn’t talk much after that. We ate. Quietly. Comfortably.
Enemies did not eat pasta this way. Which had me wondering what we were becoming.
Three days later,the call came.
I was in the bedroom, sorting clothes into our totally-not-equal halves of the dresser, when my phone buzzed.
The wordMomappeared on the screen.
My stomach dropped. She never called unless something was wrong—or unlessIwas wrong.
I answered anyway. “Hi, Mom.”
Ledger was in the living room, doing his stretches on the floor. He shot me a curious glance but didn’t move away—there was nowhere to go in this apartment.
Her voice hit instantly, sharp and bright like champagne-glass shards. “Well. I suppose congratulations are in order.”
Oh, fantastic. She’d heard.
I swallowed. “I was going to call you?—”
“Were you?” she interrupted. “Because your aunt Roberta calledmeabout it. Imagine my surprise, Roxie, hearing from someone else that my daughter got married.”
I wasn’t surprised that family members were starting to hear about it. When a big chunk of the family money was transferred, there was bound to be chatter.
I stared at the wall. “I wasn’t hiding it.”
“Then what would you call it? And why didn’t you marry someone appropriate? Someone stable. Someone we actually know.” The sound of disapproval and disdain in her voice made me pull the phone away from my ear.
Ledger’s breathing slowed. He was listening. I couldn’t blame him—my mother’s voice could probably penetrate steel.
She continued, “You had options. You could have worked things out with Michael?—”
“Mom,” I cut in, my annoyance flaring. “I broke up with Michael over a year and a half ago.”
She tsked. “And we all thought that was a phase.”
“A phase?” Was she serious?
“A rebellious streak,” she said matter-of-factly. “But instead of coming to your senses, you went and—what? Married some boy you barely know?”
Ledger’s head lifted sharply at that.
My grip tightened on the phone. “The trust fund deadline was coming up. I had to make a choice.”
“You made the wrong one,” she snapped. “Again.”
The wordagainstung like a slap.
