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And meet the most amazing woman.
“I’m going. I can take your car or walk.” I point my finger at Hudson, hand shaking with anger and sadness.
“Wait.” Lex raises her hand. “You’re telling me that you and Sage weren’t a real couple?” Her eyes narrow skeptically.
“Not until the wedding.” My lips press into a straight line.
“You’re meant to be together,” she whispers. “I could see it.”
“Does me no good if Sage doesn’t see it.” I seethe.
“I’m not letting you drive. You’re too angry.” Hudson rips the keys from my hand.
“I’ll walk,” I say.
“It’s raining. I’ll drive you,” Hudson sighs. “But you have to change out of your soaked clothes first.”
Lex’s eyes widen. Hudson hasn’t even stepped foot on my parents’ driveway since he broke apart from the family business.
I don’t care that my wet clothes are sticking to my body. I have other priorities, but I rather drive than walk.
“Now, before I change my mind.” His tone is authoritative.
After changing, I walk out of the apartment in silence, knee bouncing when I sit in the car. Hudson’s always had my back.
The drive to my parents’ house is silent. The sound of the rumbling motor is the only thing I hear as we make the familiar drive to our childhood home. It does nothing to tamp down my anger.
Even standing in the rain wouldn’t be enough to hose down this fire burning inside of me. It’s time I confront my parents with honesty instead of games.
Hudson parks the car and turns to me.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Didn’t you have the chance to stand up to them and take your life back?” He nods. “It’s my turn.” I tilt my head, cynicism running through me.
I step out of the car and slam my closed fist against the front door. I don’t care if they think it’s impolite. The housekeeper opens with wide eyes, but I don’t bother greeting her as I storm into the house and call for my parents.
“What in the world?” My mom appears from the living room. “Tristan!” she yells. “Do not come in here screaming.”
I cross my arms, laughing humorlessly.
“Hypocrite.” I shake my head.
“Excuse me?” She narrows her eyes.
“You heard me. It’s not okay for me to come in here and demand answers when you can walk into a private establishment and attack a customer?”
She rolls her eyes and sighs as if she’s bored.
“Tristan,” she takes on a smug tone. “I have a right to defend my family.”
“What’s going on here?” My dad walks into the foyer, too.
“Wonderful, I was hoping for this family reunion,” I throw out sarcastically. “What’s going on is that you both royally screwed up.”
“We’re watching out for your best interests.” My mother arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow.
Doesn’t she ever get tired of pretending to be perfect?
