Page 102 of True Blue

"She just might get Theo free from Mom."

"Independent, a doctor, smart," Danielle laughs. "And you were following after her like a dog, looking at her like she was everything."

Luke and Heath both snicker, and even with my face heating, I can't deny it.

"But Mom didn't like her for all of those reasons," Stephanie says, "and because Nana adored her. She knew Nana always had your ear."

"Mom liked Lily because she's simple," Danielle says. "She bends. She wouldn't challenge you and, more importantly, she wouldn't challenge her."

They're right. Lily adored and idolized my mother. My mother would throw underhanded jabs about her successful marriage to Colleen that made me cringe, while simultaneously comforting Lily about her own divorce.

After Nana died, whenever Mom called, and I went over there to comfort her, Lily would just happen to be there. Mom would disappear into the kitchen to make dinner, and suddenly, I was the person Lily used to pour everything into.

She met her husband in college. He cheated on her for years. She stayed and forgave and stayed and forgave until she finally couldn't anymore. I know how it feels to be cheated on, and how difficult it can be to leave the relationship. Especially when it's toxic.

But that was a problem, because then Lily would try to lay her head on my shoulder to cry, and I would create distance. Physical distance, but not emotional distance and boundaries. I see that now. And I feel like even more of an asshole, because that was emotional energy I should have been putting toward Indie, my girlfriend, my own relationship, and building our future.

My stomach rolls when I envision the future my mother was crafting for me. Indie gone, me wrecked, Mom pushing Lily toward me, and me safely under my family's thumb for the rest of my life.

Miserable and trapped and without Indie.

"I don't want Lily," I say, shaking my head hard. "I never did. I just want Indie. I need Indie."

"We know," Luke says quietly. "We could all see it."

"We liked her from the start," Danielle says. "That's why we were so happy for you. Jersey. Europe. All of it. You were actually going to live, Theo. Not just keep orbiting Mom. Not taking over the business because Dad planned it. You were going to craft your own life with the woman you love."

"It felt like defusing a bomb," Stephanie snorts. "Especially after Nana died. She was your shield."

"She was the one who told you to go away for college," Danielle says, "even though it was only an hour away and Mom cried like you were shipping off to war."

"She was the one who told you to get the condo with Heath and Luke, even though Mom was having a fit that you wouldn't come home."

"And she was the one who put your ass back in line every time Dad jumped out of you," Stephanie says dryly.

"We were terrified to bring up the enmeshment," Heath says, sheepish now. "We thought you wouldn't react well."

"Abuse victims usually don't."

My brow furrows instantly, and the denial is automatic.

"I wasn't abused. Mom and Dad never hit me, they were just⁠—"

"Emotional terrorists," Stephanie cuts in. "Honestly, maybe Dani and I were lucky in one way. They neglected us, so we gravitated toward Nana and Pop. But you? You got smothered by Mom, and Dad couldn't go a single day without calling you a pussy."

I don't feel shame about that anymore, only anger. Because I see my parents for who they are now—weak and miserable. Both of them.

"There are many different types of abuse, Theo," Luke says gently. "Financial, physical, sexual, mental, emotional. It doesn't all have one shape, but that doesn't make it any less abusive. Your parents abused all of you."

I sit with that for a long moment, hating how the words sink in and just fucking make sense. I've always thought abuse was a lack of love, not too much of it.

My head spins, and I try to grasp onto anything. I believe my sisters. I believe Indie. Too late. Always too fucking late.

"I don't know what to do," I admit.

Luke nods. "You admitting that is a good start. You're not bottling everything up anymore. Usually admitting there's a problem is the hardest part. You've done a lot of hard things in the last two hours, Theo. It counts. It's progress."

"Is it too late, though?"