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Annoyance flashes in her eyes as she looks around the room to make sure no one is watching us argue. “Do you have a specific grievance you want to air out with me or are you just ruining brunch for no good reason?”
“Actually, I do have an issue I want to talk to you about.” I cross my legs and angle my body towards her. “The day after I moved onto campus, freshman year you came to visit me. Do you remember?”
“Finding you in your bed drooling and hungover from a night of underage drinking? Yes, I remember it.”
“Do you also remember taking a note from my desk and never mentioning it to me?”
Her brows lift, and she takes a short sip of her drink before she answers. “That was so long ago, Sloane. I can’t recall every single detail of the day.”
“Either you remember the day or you don’t.”
“Fine. I might have seen a note on your desk with the name and number of a young man scribbled on it asking you to call him in the morning.”
I chew the inside of my cheek to keep myself from exploding on her. I can’t believe it’s true. “What did you do with it?”
“I haven’t the slightest clue, Sloane. It was twelve years ago.”
“Mom.”
Another flash of annoyance, this one born solely from being pushed to tell the truth for once in her miserable life. She picks an invisible bit of lint off of her dress. “I put it in the trash where it belonged. Any man you met while you were dressed like a slut and behaving like some around the way girl wasn’t worthy of being associated with the Carson name.”
My heart pounds, and I struggle for a response as I absorb this new layer of truth. “Why are you making it sound like you did me some kind of favor? You went through my things and made a choice for me based on what you wanted not what I needed!”
“What you needed, little girl, was someone to save you from yourself. You think you know everything, Sloane, and you always have, but I know more about this world than you ever will. Maybe if you’d let me make more choices for you, you wouldn’t be a thirty-year-old widow who works on Saturdays.”
Several seconds tick by and I stare at her, wondering, not for the first time, what I ever did to make her hate me so much. Mothers are supposed to be kind, loving, and supportive of their children, but mine has only ever been this.
Throughout my entire life, she’s taken a sick pleasure in hurting me, in reminding me nothing I did was good enough for her, and I’ve always laid down and taken it. Allowing her to mistreat me because of a biological connection she’s never valued or protected.
And I’m over all of it.
“I’m done, Mom.” I grab my purse and slide out of my seat. “With this toxic relationship, your snide little comments about my marriage and my choices, all of it. And I’m done with you.”
“Another dramatic exit.” She scoffs. “You’re not going to guilt me into apologizing by storming out of here, Sloane. I stand by all the things I’ve said and done. One day when you’re a mother, and you find yourself making the same choices as me, you’ll understand.”
The last sentence sends me over the edge, and I’m in her face in the space of a heartbeat. My teeth are clenched, and I feel like a wild animal as I sneer at her.
“You are not a mother. You’re a self-centered narcissist who cares more about status and perception than you’ve ever cared about me. I don’t expect you to apologize because I know you wouldn’t mean it. And for the record, if I ever have a child, I’ll never be the kind of mother you were to me.”
For the first time in my life, I believe it. And my heart aches for the version of myself that doubted it for so long. For what that doubt cost me and Eric.
“Lauren! Sloane!” A voice says from somewhere over my shoulder, and I turn around to see my mother’s friend, Ella Hamilton, sauntering over to us. “How nice to see you two together!”
My mother’s smile is fraught with tension as she stands and embraces Ella. “Yes, we’re so glad Sloane could join us for brunch, but she was just leaving.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Ella gives me a fake smile. “I guess you won’t mind if I steal your mother away for a moment then?”
“Not at all.”
We all know stealing someone away for a moment is just code for saving them from an unpleasant conversation, but I don’t care because I’ve said everything I need to say to my mother. Our conversation has answered some vital questions for me about what happened the day after I met Dom. Now I feel like I have an important piece of the puzzle, but I still don’t have all the facts.
And I know there’s only one way to get them.
.
42
Dominic
