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“Mom, let’s be serious. All I did was punch the guy.”
“You did more than punch the guy,” Noah says. “I heard you fired him.”
“So, what if I did? I can do whatever I want with my own money.” Carter crinkles his brows. “Where are you hearing all of this anyway?”
Noah shrugs. “People talk, Carter. It’s the only way we can keep up with you these days. You don’t even call anymore.”
“What’s the point? You just believe all the rumors anyway.”
“We knew you would act like this if you were dating the girl,” Noah says, releasing a big exhale. “What’s the point of complaining about women with baggage if that’s all you end up dating?”
“We’re not dati—” I start, but Carter holds his hand up to stop me.
“That’s enough,” he tells them.
“I’m going to head inside,” I say, yanking Carter’s keys from out of his hands and heading straight for the front door.
“Mia,” Carter says, but I ignore him. I’m so sick of being judged. Of being everyone’s punching bag when they can’t solve their own damn problems.
As the tears form in my eyes, I don’t bother looking back when I hear Carter practically yelling at his parents.
Chapter 28
Carter
“Youhadnorightto say that in front of her,” I say as I storm into the foyer. “Like she doesn’t exist because she doesn’t meet your standards.”
My parents follow me inside, but I pay no mind to them as I kick my shoes off and step deeper into the living room. All I hear is the door shut gently behind them.
I look around the room for Mia, but I already know she most likely retreated into the bedroom. It’s where I would have gone if I were her. Away from my god-awful parents and me.
“What does it matter, Carter?” Dad says. “These relationships of yours are never all that serious. Are you really going to stand here and tell us this one is different?”
I turn around, finally facing them. They’ve both taken a seat on my emerald green tufted couch.
“What if it is different?” I ask. All the rage in the world couldn’t add up to how pissed off I am at them for making Mia cry like that. “You could at least give her the same courtesy you give to all of your buddies in Hollywood. She’s in the same industry as you.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s in the same world as us,” Mom says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“As far as I’m concerned, there is no other world,” I shout. “Dad, you entertain at fucking parties now. And Mom, when was the last time you did anything productive other than gossip to your little book club about how shitty the roles you’re booking are?”
“Hey, your mom adores that book club. You leave those nice ladies out of this.”
“I’ve spent enough time keeping my mouth shut about all of this,” I yell, throwing my hands up in surrender. “You have no right to dictate or judge who I’m with. Especially Mia. Not when she’s one of the few people in my life who’s bothered to truly get to know the real me. Not the version you wish I could be.”
“You know we love you just the way you are, Carter,” Mom says, her voice low and slightly withdrawn. Typical. Neither of them can stand confrontation if it means reminding them of how poor of a job they did raising me. It’s one of the reasons why I just straight up avoid them.
“Then act like it,” I say through my teeth. “If you loved me so much, why did you choose to spend time with everyone but me? You were always at work or at some stupid Hollywood party that you swore you couldn’t miss for the world. It’s as if you didn’t have a son. And when you remembered you had one, it was usually for a magazine cover.”
I don’t even realize how emotional I’m getting until I feel the tears sting my eyes. Jeez, this isn’t how I envisioned my night going.
“We did what we had to do to make connections and secure work,” Dad says as if that’s a good enough reason to leave their son at home to fend for himself most nights. “Everything we did, we did it for you.” His tone is sharper now. Determined to prove to me that I’m the one in the wrong.
“And where has that gotten you?” I ask. “I actively avoid you.”
Mom throws her hands over her face. She isn’t crying, but she’s certainly giving a winning performance of a mother on the brink of tears.
Dad sighs. “Fine, you’re right. We did spend too much time working. But how are you different? You’ve dedicated your entire life to your career. You don’t have a family or a wife. You don’t know what it’s like to have to make the difficult choices we made.”
