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I narrowed my eyes at my mom. “I know exactly what’s happening between me and Derek, and I see straight through you.”
“If you want to be manipulated by him—”
“I’m not going to be manipulated by him,” I snapped. “I’ve had years of practice dealing with a narcissistic manipulator. All thanks to you. So, I don’t need to hear any more of your bullshit. I’m done. I’m as done as Gran was when she cut you out of her will. So, leave.”
My mom glared at me. “I’ll see you in court.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She grinned devilishly back at me. “Looking forward to Derek standing at my side through the proceedings?”
“To watching you lose and getting exactly as much as you deserve—nothing.”
Then, I slammed the door in her face.
My hands were clenched into fists, and I wanted to bang them on the door. Or better yet, into my mother’s face. She was so fucking horrid. She’d come over here to hurt me. To try to get under my skin.
I sighed and sank onto the ground with my back to the door. I wanted to say that it hadn’t worked. But it had. It wasn’t that I thought Derek was manipulating me or still married or that I was anything like my mother. Those things were fantasies she’d concocted to get to me. It had made me realize something else. Something I’d been avoiding the last couple months.
Derek and I couldn’t survive this court case.
35
Savannah
Present
My heart was heavy as I parked in front of Derek’s house. I stared up at the front door of the three-story brownstone. The door was a soft blue. Everything carefully and meticulously cared for. It was so very Derek. And for a few scant hours, I’d pictured myself in that house. Seen all the what ifs flit through my vision. All the ways we’d make it work this time. As if all the times before hadn’t prepared me for what was to come.
With a deep breath, I popped open the door of my car. I shouldered my purse and walked up to the steps as if I had lead in my shoes. Each step was heavier than the one before it until I was practically dragging my body to the front door. I couldn’t knock. I didn’t want to get to the inevitable any faster. I’d stalled long enough by dropping by Maddox’s place on the way here. I couldn’t put this off any longer.
I knocked on the front door and fiddled with my fingers. I hated this. I hated everything about it. My stomach was in knots. My body ached. All I wanted to do was run. Run and hide and not deal with any of this. But I wasn’t a kid anymore. I couldn’t run away from all of my problems. I had to face them head-on. There was nothing to be done about this one. No solution that I could envision for it. And that made it all the worse.
Derek pulled the door open, a huge welcoming smile coming to his face at the sight of me. “Hey! You’re back early.”
I nodded. “Sort of.”
His eyes drifted past me to my car parked in front of his house. His smile faltered at the sight of the packed backseat. “When I said stay for the weekend, I didn’t know you’d be moving in.” He cracked it as a joke, but I saw the worry on his face. He had to know what my full car meant and wanted to deflect.
I finally met his gaze and shook my head just once. “I’m not.”
He sighed. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Do whatever you’re about to do.”
“I’m sorry, Derek.”
“Don’t be sorry either,” he insisted. “Just come inside and spend the weekend with me, Mars.”
“I wish I could,” I told him honestly. I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “You have no idea how much I want that.”
“Then, forget everything else.” He reached for my hand, and like a weak fool, I let him take it.
I glanced down at our joined hands. If only what I wanted and what I knew to be right were the same thing. But they weren’t. And they couldn’t be. No matter how we rolled the dice, our time was up.
“I’m going back home.”
He tugged me just a little closer. “This is your home.”
I gulped. “Back to Atlanta.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“I can’t lie to you, Derek. I’m way past that. My mom came by to see me.”
He narrowed his eyes at that. “So… what? You’re leaving because she got in your head? What did she say?”
“It’s not so much what she said. Though she tried her best to ruin my life. You should know that Kasey is telling people that you’re still married and that, I guess, I’m your mistress.”
“What?” he practically roared in horror.
I held my hand up. “Do with that information what you will, but I set the record straight with my mom. She both suggested I should date you for your money”—he winced, the hit striking home, as I’d known it would—“or that we were only together so that you could manipulate me to win the case.”
