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“I don’t—” I shake my head, because I honestly don’t have a good explanation for this at all, but I need to say something. “My mom meddles. She doesn’t understand. Jessica and I were together for a long time, and I think she’s having a hard time letting go.”
“I get it, King. I mean, I don’t really, but I can see how all those years would make it hard for Jessica to walk away, especially from someone as amazing as you.” She sighs and rubs her temples. “But I can’t go back in there. What are you going to do? Introduce me as your girlfriend when they obviously brought her along so that you two could reconcile?” She takes another step away from me and holds out her hand, flagging down a passing taxi.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going home. I can only take so much humiliation in one week, and this situation puts me way over my quota.”
“I’ll come with you.” I take a step toward her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” She looks past me, and I glance over my shoulder to find my parents bursting out into the alley, followed by Jessica, again. “Your family is here for you. You need to stay and manage . . . whatever this is.” She brushes a tear away. “My battle armor already has enough dings in it today. I’m not sure it can take another round of hits from your family tonight. And honestly, I don’t want to meet them with your ex-girlfriend as a witness.”
I don’t stop her when she gets into the cab and they drive away, because she’s right: I have to deal with my family and their thoughtlessness, and Queenie has been through more than enough this week.
Jessica’s heels click on the sidewalk as she approaches, several steps ahead of the rest, mostly because Gerald is drunk-weaving and Hanna and my dad have to keep him from veering into the brick wall.
“Ryan? What are you doing out here?” my mom calls from down the alley.
“I was dealing with my girlfriend, who left because she’s obviously upset about my surprise.” I motion to Jessica and then feel bad about how much of a jerk I’m being to her, but Queenie’s had enough crap this week, and honestly so have I.
“Pointing is rude, Ryan,” my mom tsks.
“I thought you said Ryan and that adulteress broke up after that whole scandal thing happened,” Jessica says to my mom, looking confused.
“You said what?” I straighten and clasp my hands behind my neck, pacing the sidewalk. I’m honestly trying to keep it together, but it’s getting more difficult by the second.
My mom throws her hands in the air. Dramatically. Since there is no other way with her. “It’s not like you’re going to keep dating her after that whole thing went public in the media.”
“She is married.” Jessica props a fist on her hip.
“Was married. She’s divorced now.”
Jessica wrinkles her nose. “You’re not really going to date a divorcée, are you? That’s just . . . not like you at all, Ryan.”
Gerald drunk-weaves into the middle of the group. “What’s goin’ on?”
My dad looks tired—as is typical when dealing with Gerald—and Hanna is obviously as pissed off as I am, based on her pursed lips and angry glaring.
“Where’s the limo? We’re all going home!” I shout over them. I need to get us all out of here before we draw more attention and someone decides to record this ridiculous conversation.
“But we just got here!” Gerald throws his arm over Hanna’s shoulder and uses her to help keep him from tipping over.
“I’m calling a family meeting that isn’t going to take place in this parking lot,” I snap. “The limo. Where is it?” I ask Hanna, because out of everyone, she’s the one most likely to take my side on this. She’s always had my back, and I’m banking on her having it now too.
“It should be parked over there.” Hanna motions across the lot.
My family follows, although Gerald grumbles about having left a half-full beer behind, and Jessica and my mom are whispering loudly about my mood. I don’t say anything because I’m afraid I’m going to go off on them, and that’s not normally something I do. I’m always even. Levelheaded. But this is a new height of interference on my mother’s part, and I honestly don’t know what to make of it.
Everyone piles into the limo, and somehow, despite my getting in last, I still end up between Jessica and my mom.
“What’s gotten into you?” my mom asks once we’re on the way home.
“Why would you tell Jessica that Queenie and I broke up?”
“Because she’s married, and you were rightfully conflicted about the entire thing when we spoke about this as a family. Besides, I know my son well enough to know that you wouldn’t continue to date her.” Once again, my mom has found a way to spin a past conversation to suit her own purposes.
