Richard came to get me instead of Mom.
We rarely eat together.
They should be at work.
But then Remy explained that he wasn’t the only one who saw the video. So not only has my boyfriend witnessed it, but mystepdad has too. And a bunch of investigators.
Fuck, I wanna get high.
Or drunk. Drunk would be fantastic.
Under the table, Remy squeezes my thigh.
“You gonna eat anything, love?”
Richard clears his throat and dabs his lips with a napkin.
“My appetite’s kinda shot,” I say, glaring directly at my stepdad.
Remy sighs, “I know,” and covers my hand on the table. “Can you try… for me?”
Taking a deep breath, I stab a chunk of egg. Out of the corner of my eye, Richard shifts in his seat, glancing at Mom, who is a porcelain statue. As if this wasn’t painful enough.
I drop my fork with an earth-shattering clatter. “Is this how it’s gonna be now?”
Deafening silence.
“Baby,” Remy warns.
“No, I’m serious,” I scoff, gesturing between my parents. “If you’re so uncomfortable, why bother with this fucking charade?”
Mom doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Richard’s famous scowl returns. “It’s not a charade, Winston—”
“Yeah, ok,” I scoff and lean back in my chair. “If you want me to believe it, maybe don’t be so fucking weird every time my boyfriend shows me affection.”
His nostrils flare, the corner of his eye twitching. “I have no issue with your relationship.”
He’s so full of shit.
“It’s no big deal as long as it’s not in your face, right?”
The parenthesis around his mouth deepen with a frustrated frown. “That’s outlandish. I didn’t even know you two were—”
My disgusted laugh cuts him off. “Of course you didn’t. That would require caring.”
The table shakes as his elbow drops, knife pointed at me. “That’s not fair. We’ve discussed this already. I wouldn’t provide for you if I didn’t care.”
