The way she says Mia's name carries disdain and something else. Jealousy, maybe. Or just the satisfaction of being proven right about something.
"Emma is an adult. She can handle knowing her father is in a relationship." I move to the bar cart and refill my scotch, not offering Sarah anything. We're past the pretense of hospitality.
"A relationship?" Sarah laughs, the sound sharp and bitter. "Is that what you're calling it? Jack, the entire town is talking about you and that woman. About how she's involved with multiple men. About the scandal at the academy."
I take a long drink, letting the scotch burn down my throat. "Gossip isn't fact."
"No, but Emma's evidence is." Sarah moves closer, her perfume expensive and suffocating. "She's been gathering proof, Jack. Photographs of you leaving Mia's apartment at odd hours. Testimony about finding Mia with three men in your bedroom."
My hand tightens on the glass. "Emma had no right to invade my privacy."
"She thinks she's protecting you." Sarah's voice softens slightly. "She believes Mia Wilson is manipulating you. Corrupting you. She's convinced that if she can just expose the truth, you'll come to your senses."
"The truth is that I'm in love with Mia." The words come out before I can stop them. "And yes, it's complicated. Yes, it's unconventional. But it's real, and it's mine to navigate."
Sarah studies my face, and something shifts in her expression. "I don't care who you sleep with, Jack. We've been divorced for years. But Emma cares. She's planning to present everything she's gathered to the school board."
45
MIA
I pull into my mother's driveway as the morning sun breaks through the clouds, painting everything in shades of gold that feel too cheerful for what I'm about to face. I force myself to breathe through the anxiety clawing at my chest.
The front door opens before I can knock. Mom stands there in her bathrobe, her brown eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. She looks like she's aged ten years overnight.
"Come in," she says quietly, stepping aside.
The house smells like cinnamon and coffee, familiar scents that usually comfort me. Today they just make my stomach turn. I follow Mom into the kitchen where a cup of tea sits untouched on the table, steam no longer rising from its surface.
She gestures for me to sit, then settles across from me with her hands wrapped around the cold mug. The silence stretches between us like a chasm I don't know how to cross.
"Mom, I can explain."
"I'm listening," she says, her lips tight and thin with disapproval. She leans forward slightly, her expression a mixture of disappointment and genuine confusion. "Help me understand, Mia. Because right now, all I see is my daughter spiraling down so deep I'm afraid she'll never see the light of day again."
I take a shaky breath, trying to organize thoughts that feel scattered like puzzle pieces. "It's complicated. Jack and I have history, you know that. But Blake and Noah, they came into my life when I needed support. When I was drowning in secrets and fear."
"So you're sleeping with all three of them?" Mom's bluntness makes me flinch.
"Yes." The word comes out steadier than I feel. "But it's not some sordid affair. It's real, Mom. What I have with them is real."
She picks up her tea, realizes it's cold, and sets it down again with a sigh. "Real doesn't mean right, sweetheart. Real doesn't protect you from consequences."
"I know the consequences." My voice rises slightly. "I'm living them. I lost my job. Dad won't speak to me. The entire town is gossiping. But what I have with Jack, Blake, and Noah makes me feel complete in ways I never thought possible."
Mom's expression softens slightly, but the worry doesn't leave her eyes. "How does it work? This arrangement?"
I wasn't expecting that question. "They each bring something different to my life. Jack understands my past, he's the father of my children. Blake makes me feel safe and protected. Noah challenges me intellectually and sees parts of me I usually hide." I pause, searching for the right words. "Together, they make me whole."
"And they're okay with sharing you?"
Heat floods my cheeks, but I nod. "It evolved organically. None of us planned this. But we all chose it, eyes wide open."
Mom stands and moves to the window, staring out at the backyard where I used to play as a child. "Do you understand how this looks to everyone else? How it's destroying all of your careers? "
The guilt crashes over me like a wave. "I know. God, I know. But they won't let me walk away. I've tried."
"Have you?" She turns to face me, and I see tears gathering in her eyes. "Or have you just been waiting for someone to give you permission to stay?"
