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“Go away!” I scream at the only person who would knock like that. I told Skyler to give me some space, but mostly I don’t want to stare at her and Aidan and be witness to how easy their relationship is. My dad will give Aidan a hard time for a day or two and that’ll be it. He’ll accept Aidan.
Will my father ever accept me and Landon?
Will he ever completely accept me?
My door opens and I watch as my parents enter the guest house. My mother, who is always happy and cheerful and rarely has a reason to shed a tear unless she is overwhelmingly happy, looks like she’s been crying for the better part of the past hour. Her eyes are red and swollen and she’s not wearing her glasses—probably because they got in the way of how much she has been rubbing her eyes. That’s why my glasses are perched firmly on top of my head.
“Oh, my sweet Bella,” my mother says as she sits next to me and pulls me into her arms.
The feeling of her arms around me makes the dam burst, yet again, and suddenly the uncontrollable sobs erupt out of me. “It’s not fair!”
“Sweetheart…you know your dad is just trying to do what’s best for you.”
“Don’t you get that he’s what’s best for me?” I look at my mother, as she hadn’t heard my pleas earlier. “I’m in love with him, Mama. You told me you understood. You said you knew the first man I gave my heart to would be the one.”
“Vivianna, you knew?” my father asks, with a confused expression, and I can tell he’s trying his best to keep from sounding accusatory. I’ve never heard my father take any kind of tone ever with my mother.
She shoots my father a glare before turning back to me. “Baby, I didn’t know the details. I didn’t know…” She rubs her eyes. “It broke my heart hearing you cry like that.” She tightens her hold around me and looks at my father again. “You apologize, right now.”
He unfolds his arms and sits on the coffee table in front of me. “How…?”
“That’s not an apology, Preston Mitchell,” she scolds.
“I want to know how it started.” He looks at my mother.
“It doesn’t matter. Someone tells you they’re in love. Their first love. The normal response is not to scream at them. You forget it wasn’t all that long ago, that my parents weren’t too keen about the non-Italian boy I brought home at eighteen.” She narrows her eyes at him. “And you weren’t Catholic.”
“Vivi…it’s…”
“Not different, Preston. Love is…love.”
I should have expected this from my mother. This level of understanding is something that only a mother can have and it makes me feel less alone.
“You understand why I reacted the way I did, don’t you?” He runs a hand through his hair and rests his elbows on his knees. “I feel like he’s taking advantage of you.”
“And when I made it clear that was definitely not the case, you should have backed off.”
“He’s old enough to be…” He clears his throat. “He’s my age, Serena.”
“Technically you’ve got a few years on him.” I point at him. “He would want me to point that out.” I know it isn’t the time for the joke, but having my mother here feels like I’m protected from anything my father can throw at me.
“Serena…”
“I don’t know, Dad. It just…happened. I didn’t plan for it. But I didn’t hide from it either. It just feels right. It feels natural. I know he has a track record, Dad. Thank you for pointing that out.” My lips form a straight line as I try to ignore the sinking feeling that, while Landon is my first, there is quite a long line of women that came before me.
He wants you to be his last, though.
“Please don’t go to your board. Don’t get him in trouble. I’m done interning as of next month, and I don’t have to return next semester.”
“Your father isn’t going to report anything.” My mother gives him a stern look and his shoulders sink.
“I was angry and I…I am angry…but…I don’t want to hurt you. And some of the things you said, I...it seems like I’ve hurt you quite a bit.”
I shrug. I don’t want to get into this. At least not without a certified therapist present. “I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be used to it,” my mother speaks up. “Sweetheart, I wish you would have said something. We love you and your sister equally. Do you understand that?” Her hands have found my face and she gives me a kiss on my nose.
“I know…you do,” I respond as I look at my mom. My mom and I are almost one in the same and she’s never made me feel like I was less than anyone.
