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“If you want, we can talk in your car?” I offered, knowing that she’d lose her mind if even a mere scratch ended up on her car that cost more than my home. “Besides, Jeff is still sleeping, and I wouldn’t want to wake him.”
A sigh of relief fell from her lips as she nodded. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s all right,” she huffed, seemingly annoyed by the whole situation, even though she was the one who showed up unannounced to my home. Grams had a very solid rule about uninvited guests: keep the doors shut and the curtains drawn.
“No one should show up without an invite to one’s home. That’s invading their haven,” she’d always say. “And if they do that, they will cross all of your boundaries without a blink of the eye.”
We walked to her car, and I climbed into the passenger seat. Once we were both seated, Catherine locked the doors a total of four times. “Just in case,” she said.
I simply smiled. In her mind, a gangster was probably going to stab her in the side any minute now.
Her eyes fell to my poop emoji slippers when I crossed my legs, and the look of disgust overtook her. If anything, Catherine did not have a poker face.
“They were a gift from Jeff for—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, cutting me off. “Your fashion sense is not why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh. Okay. Well… what is it?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“What for?”
“For how I treated you in the past. I want to apologize for that. I was distraught and not myself. I’ve done a lot of therapy over the years and changed. For that, I’m sorry.”
“Wow, Catherine. Thank you. That’s very—”
“Anyway, I need you to make sure Damian chooses me for the best stepmom payout,” she cut in.
I laughed because she couldn’t be serious. Then again, the serious stare in her eyes made my chuckles dissipate. “You’re not joking?”
“Not at all, no. I deserve it. I pretty much raised you more than any of those other women.”
The Devil works hard, but Catherine works harder.
“So, you came out here just so I could talk Damian into picking you? You didn’t really care about apologizing?”
“Of course not,” she said without thought, then she realized her slipup and shook her head. “I mean, of course that’s not the only reason. I do care about you.”
It felt like the hardest thing for Catherine’s lips to say.
“Just do it, Stella. If I’m honest, you don’t even deserve a cent of my husband’s money. You aren’t his family.”
“He was always like a father figure to me. And you are his ex-wife.”
“But he wasn’t your father. You don’t even know your father, and you can thank your mother for that, but you can leave Kevin out of your twisted fantasies. He was my husband, not yours.”
“Don’t ever speak about my mother like that,” I hissed, my heart rate rising as her words stung my ears. Catherine had enough nerve to spit on her name. I could handle a lot in life. I could handle the insults people shot out about me, and I could handle others’ judgments, but speaking against my family was a line I refused to allow them to cross.
Catherine parted her lips with a comeback but must’ve chosen against it. She cleared her throat. “Just promise to choose me. Or better yet, null the whole agreement, and Rosalina, Denise, and I will split the money. I know you don’t want it. It’s for the best that the three of us get the payout.”
“And Damian? What about him?”
“What matters what happens to him? He’s nobody to us. He can go back to whatever bridge he crawled out from under.”
That gut instinct hit me quickly as I thought back to the conversation I shared with Damian.
What does your word mean?
Catherine nudged the paperwork toward me, and I hesitated.
