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Iknowhe’s right, but it’s not easy to hear it.
I nod, steeling myself to go back inside. When I hesitate, Rei waits. When I walk toward the door, he opens it for me, his hand brushing softly against the back of my shoulder when we walk inside.
Laughter carries from the sunroom to the rest of the house, making my pulse race. They seem to be having a good time and somehow, that’s even more terrifying. Does that mean they don’t believe me? Or shit, what if they believe me and just don’t care? That would be worse, right?
Rei walks in ahead of me and the three of them quiet. I don’t know what kind of magic he does, but the other two stand up and walk toward him. I can’t discern everything everyone is saying. Misha and Luke both flash each other a look, and they seem to be speaking without saying any words. I want to ask what they’re talking about, but they’re on their feet and walking past me. Misha’s hand falls on my shoulder, squeezing me softly, and when I turn to look at him, he shakes his head softly.
Fuck, they’re throwing me to the wolves. I realize this at the same exact moment that they start talking over each other. I notice there’s nothing I can say, and even if there was, they wouldn’t listen. They’re all making excuses to leave and my mom’s husband isn’t here right now, so they’re just going to leave me alone with her.
“Wait, I–“
“We’ll be right outside,“ Rei says, his hand on mine as he squeezes it for a split second before he walks away from me. “We just need to figure out some logistical shit.“
“I could be there for that,“ I respond. They all ignore me. They just walk out, one after the other, until the only two people left in the sunroom are my mom and I. I’m not stupid; they obviously did this on purpose, probably working with my mom. I guess they don’t think I’m in danger so I can’t really fault them for that, but I’m still not happy about it. It’s annoying and there’s absolutely nothing I can do. Their excuse doesn’t even make any sense; surely they could’ve come up with something a little more believable.
This isn’t the time to call them out, but they aren’t here anymore. The only person here is my mother, whose head is cocked as she looks curiously at me.
“What?“ I ask.
“I’m just wondering if you’re going to stay or run.“
I scoff, shaking my head as I hug myself. “We brought one car. I’m not going anywhere.“
She sighs. She rubs her temple, something I also do when I’m tense. “I appreciate that it’s difficult for you to be here. There’s a lot to say.“
I cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the double doors that lead to the house. “So you’re going to help?“
“Of course I’m going to help. But I asked them to leave because a lot of these things I want to discuss with you are private,“ she says. She’s sitting with her legs pointed toward me, her eyes wide as she meets my gaze. “I don’t know how much your friends want to know about my sex life.“
My eyes widen.
“I would rather not talk to you about that, either,“ she says. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we have any way around it. Sit, please.“
“Water?“ I ask as I sit down on the rocking chair in front of her again.
She gestures toward the unopened water bottle on the glass coffee table and I sit in front of her and swallow. “There,“ she says. “It’s not that scandalous, so don’t go fainting on me.“
“I wasn’t planning on it,“ I mumble, but then I think it through. Is that a possibility? Maybe fainting would get me out of this. My mother smiles, as if she’s able to read my mind, then she gets serious as she looks at me again. She takes another sip from her coffee cup. I have to assume it’s almost entirely empty when I look at the way she’s slowly–very slowly–drinking from it.
I unscrew the lid of the water bottle, take a swig, and stare at her. “How’s any of this related to your sex life?“ I ask.
She opens her mouth to answer me, but I wave her off.
“If you’re going to start talking about Ash or, ew, dad, I don’t want to hear it.“
She bits down on her lower lip. I can tell she’s trying to stop herself from laughing. “That wasn’t my plan, no,“ she says.
I groan. “Before we start any of this, tell me how you knew. Tell me how you knew you had to call them.“
The amusement immediately leaves her face, but I can tell she’s doing her best to appear composed. “I know this is going to sound insane–and I know you’re probably not going to appreciate it–but honestly, baby, I could see it in your eyes.“
I wait for her to say something else. She doesn’t. She sets the cup down on the glass table in front of us and gracefully gets to her feet as she starts to pace around the room.
“When?”
“The last time I saw you, Trine.”
“At dad’s funeral? I was beside myself. How could you see anything in my eyes?“ I ask. I open my mouth to say something else, but I don’t want to be unnecessarily cruel. My mom doesn’t want to hear that the day of my father’s funeral I started to consider myself an orphan. Not if she really does want to help me.
