Page 40 of Break Me Gently

I stared at the woman who’d tried so hard to include me in everything they did. From cooking to family outings. The comfort she’d attempted to give me after my father died. The patience she’d held onto while I disrespected her.

“She was always supposed to be a Rayne,” I murmured. “One way or another.”

“Oh,” she repeated, glancing around the room for Amber.

“She’s in the bathroom.”

She nodded, still dazed from the confirmation of our illicit relationship.

“Right. Right,” she repeated, before turning into Luke’s waiting arms.

His smirk was gone, his focus entirely on comforting Isabella.

“Don’t make me come for you, Zach,” he said quietly, but his eyes were hard and cold.

It was nice to see him without his mask.

Fucker.

Chapter 21

Amber

My ear was pressed to the door, but I couldn’t hear properly over the pounding of my own heart. Good thing the toilet was right there, in case I actually pooped my pants.

Sex and sweat.

Shower.

But the thought of my mother knowing what we’d been doing—behind her back, in her house, under her roof—made my stomach twist into something ugly. I closed my eyes, pressing my palms flat against the cool tile wall.

Did she still see Zach as her son? Or had the years of distance he’d put between them severed that feeling completely, leaving nothing behind but the label?

I needed to talk to her. But the shower came first.

Everything was out in the open now. This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? To stop hiding. To tell the truth instead of lying every single day. But sitting here, hunched on the edge of the bathtub with my knees pulled to my chest, all I felt was the sick, hollow guilt of having deceived the one person who’d always, always been on my side.

I sighed and turned toward the shower, steam already starting to fog the mirror.

FML.

It wasn’t until I was under the hot spray of the water that I realised all my fears had been that Zach would break me, or use my love against me. His demeanour when he first came home at Christmas had promised heartbreak. But even if he had, I would have let him.

Maybe that’s why I initially hid him from my mum. She would have seen right through me.

I reached for the body wash. It was time to face the music.

❧ ❧ ❧

My knock was timid, but it was Luke who opened the door.

“You should be okay, poppet,” he whispered, brushing past me on his way out.

I stared after him, wondering what he meant, but he was already halfway down the stairs, footsteps fading into the quiet of the house.

The bedroom sat washed in soft golden light—one lamp on the nightstand, the overhead switched off, throwing long shadows across the carpet. My mum sat on the edge of the bed, now in her dressing gown, hair damp at the ends from her own shower. She patted the space beside her. I closed the door behind me and crossed the room to join her, the mattress dipping under my weight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Mum,” I said, with a sigh, sitting down beside her. “I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about… my choice.”