Liv looked stricken, but also confused. Despite everything, the irony of the idea that I’d lured her in with my money, of all things, almost made me laugh. “No, he hasn’t—” she began, but my mother didn’t let her finish.
“I’m sure you haven’t. You probably have no idea that this is, as they say, his M.O. So, do you want to know why Theo hates me so much?” She flashed Liv a dangerously sweet smile.
Liv and I spoke at the same time. “Actually, that’s none of my—” she began, just as I said, in a pointless attempt to salvage the situation, “I know why you’re here, Mother. Can we get down to business and skip the part where you rake me over the coals?”
My mother barreled ahead as if neither of us had said a word. “He hides it better than I do. But the demon that’s got hold of our family has him, too. Stick with him long enough, and you’ll wind up wondering why he doesn’t return your calls, why he spends half the winter hibernating like a bear. He’ll tell you it’s because he’s working”—she spat out the word like it poisoned her—“but really, it’s because he’s sitting in the dark, debating whether to drink himself to death or slit his wrists.”
Liv’s eyes found my face, her expression alarmed. “What is she talking about, Theo?”
“Nothing.” I clenched my hands, digging my nails into my palms until it hurt. It was a small pain, unlike the train wreck this encounter was becoming. “You’re drunk. Go home.”
“To the place you pay for? You can ignore me all you want, Theo. You can pretend we’re nothing alike, with your money and your fancy houses. But in the end”—she fixed me with a pitying expression—“you know you’re just like me.”
Silence followed, filled with the blare of horns and the chatter of passing pedestrians. She’d shut up, but the damage was done.
I couldn’t look at Liv, couldn’t stand to see my mother’s expression reflected on her face. But I couldn’t look at Mom either, not without saying something I’d regret. We’d always known how to hurt each other, but this time, the knife had cut deep. I wasn’t sure I could forgive her.
Then again, if she knew who Liv really was, I didn’t think she’d forgive me, either.
“Admit it,” my mother goaded me. “You’d do anything to avoid me, but who you’re really trying to avoid is yourself. Every relationship you’ve ever had has been superficial. I bet you don’t even know her last name.”
Liv made a choking sound, and my mother’s eyes narrowed, a predator slinking in for the kill. “It’s true, isn’t it,” she said with faux sympathy, reaching out to pat Liv’s hand. “Theo, let me introduce you properly to your pretty friend here. What is your last name, sweetheart?”
Liv cast me a desperate glance, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. After this conversation, she’d think I went around seducing women on top of my piano every weekend, that she was just a faceless woman in a long line of the same. I didn’t want her to believe that; it made me look like a dick. And also—
“Brentwood.” Liv’s lips quirked. “Theo does know my last name, I promise.”
My mother’s eyes snapped wide, and she snatched her hand back. “What did you say?” She tilted her head, regarding Liv with alarming intensity. “You’re not a Carter-Brentwood, by any chance, are you?”
A terrible silence fell.
How had my mother recognized Liv’s maiden name? Had she been stalking the Carters online, tracking their family tree? It wouldn’t surprise me; she was a perennial victim, always looking for someone to blame, rather than working to change her circumstances or solve problems. I was used to it. But in this case, it was about to cause a hell of a lot of trouble.
“I—” Liv began, but she didn’t get any further. My mother had clearly taken her hesitation as confirmation, because she barged onward, voice laced with vitriol.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower, Theo, here you are. Literally sleeping with the enemy.”
Oh, no. Not this again.
Liv straightened to her full height, and a familiar spark lit her eye. “Excuse me?” she said, each syllable an icicle.
I tried to intervene. “It’s not what you think.”
Now both women were glaring at me.
“Liv isn’t the enemy.” How had I found myself defending a Carter? Still, I couldn’t stand there and let my mother tear her apart. “She’s smart and considerate and she’s been kind enough to come to New York with me. We’re trying to find out the truth.”
Liv looked appeased, but my mother snorted. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you in the ass, Theodore. I’m ashamed to call you my son.”
This stung, more than I cared to acknowledge. The silence stretched, until finally, Liv broke it. “I should leave.”
This was exactly what my mother wanted. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. But I couldn’t face Liv, either. Not now.
I dragged my gaze away from the wall of my apartment building to look at her. Her expression was a bitter brew: shock, dismay, and the pity I’d dreaded. My stomach roiled, then sank. “Yeah,” I said. “You should.”
Nodding, she turned and walked away, blending so seamlessly into the crowd, it was like she’d never been there at all.
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