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Esther sat on the couch. Her free hand squeezed the edge of the cushion in a death grip. “That’s great in theory, but it doesn’t stop Mom from ending up on the street.”
“Your mother will get by. She always does. Once she realizes she can’t get someone to step in and do the hard work for her, she’ll figure something out for herself. That’s how she works.”
“It’s different this time. You know what the rental market is like right now.”
“There are plenty of people in the greater metro area getting by on modest salaries. If she wanted to make it work, she could.”
“Spoken like someone who lives in Laurelhurst.”
“Your mother made her own choices.”
“She didn’t choose for you to leave her for your dental hygienist.” It was a low blow, but the low road seemed to be Esther’s preferred mode of transportation these days.
“She had a very comfortable alimony from me,” her father replied, quietly terse. “No one forced her to marry and then divorce that painter, throwing it all away. Just like no one is keeping her from getting a full-time job to make ends meet. Those are her choices, and what’s happening now is the consequence of those choices.”
Esther’s foot kicked the leg of the coffee table. “They’re not just her consequences though. They’re mine and Eric’s too, because we’re the ones left to take care of her.”
Her father sighed the beleaguered sigh of someone who had spent years of his life taking care of her mother. “Your mother needs to stand on her own two feet. If we keep picking her up every time she falls down, she’ll never do it for herself. How do you think your mother got like this? Her parents babied and protected her, and then I picked up where they left off.”
“And now I’m the one who’s supposed to turn my back on her?” Esther kicked the coffee table again. Hard enough to hurt this time.
“I’m not saying it’s fair. But yes.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Maybe it is now, but believe me, it wasn’t easy when I left her. It wasn’t easy to extricate myself from her web of dependency, but that’s what I did, and it’s what you need to do now.”
“Was it easier or harder than leaving me and Eric?” she said in a cold, flat voice.
“Esther—”
“Never mind, don’t answer that. Thanks anyway, Dad.” She ended the call before he could say anything else.
It was just like she’d thought. She was on her own.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Esther got up the next morning and got ready for work, determined to put everything except work out of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about any of that other stuff, because there was nothing she could do about it. Instead, she was going to focus like a laser on the one thing she could control: her job.
Until she stepped out of her apartment and came face to face with Jonathan.
Esther’s heart leapt into her throat at the sight of him. A bottle of laundry detergent dangled from one of his hands; the other clenched the doorknob of his apartment. He was wearing sweatpants and flip-flops, his hair fluffy and disheveled, his stretched-out T-shirt baggy on his frame.
He stared at her, frozen. Eyes wide with horror. A marble sculpture entitled “An Unwelcome Encounter.”
She’d been aching for a glimpse of him for days, but now that they’d come face to face, all she wanted to do was flee. She wished she could rewind time and take an extra few minutes leaving her apartment, so she’d never have to see the way he was looking at her right now.
Esther’s mouth opened—to say what, she wasn’t sure—but before anything could come out, he recovered his motor control and went into his apartment without a word. She deflated like a punctured air mattress as the door slammed behind him.
So much for focusing on work.
She locked her apartment with a shaking hand and went down to her car, eyes locked straight ahead as she walked past his window. Her stomach did a small heave at the sight of his Lexus in the space next to hers. She got behind the wheel of her Prius and clenched the steering wheel with both fists, taking deep breaths until she could trust herself not to cry on the drive to work.
She might need to move. Living in such close proximity to Jonathan was torment.
An hour later, she sat at her desk with her headphones on, still haunted by the stark expression on his face.
He’d looked like someone in agony. Like the very sight of her hurt him.
