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“At the end of the month, my mother is getting an award. A Good Samaritan award, and there’s going to be a ceremony. I’d love for you to go with me.”
Immediately, she starts to look uneasy. The last time I took her to an event, my father threatened her, and she was publicly ridiculed, but everything feels so different now. With a calming hold of her arms, I quickly quiet her worries. “I don’t mean like a charade or part of the plan. I mean… I want you to go as my date. Myrealdate.”
“I don’t know…”
“I’ll keep you by my side the entire night, and I’ll make sure that asshole doesn’t even look in your direction.”
She lets out a disgruntled huff. “Your family is so fucked up.”
“I agree,” I reply with a nod.
“Why does everyone just pretend everything is okay?” she asks, but then quickly shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“No, you’re right,” I say, running my hands along the bare length of her thighs to keep her warm. “I wish I didn’t, Sage. I wish I could turn my back on him for good, but I’ve already lost my brother. I can’t bear to lose my whole family.”
“Soexposehim,” she says. “Isn’t it worse to let your mother stay with someone who actively betrays her?”
“It’s not that simple,” I reply.
“Why not?”
I love what a challenger Sage is. I do. Just not when I’m the one she’s challenging. I don’t always appreciate the mirror in front of my face when I don’t like the reflection.
“Because…” I mutter with frustration. “She’d stay with him. And I don’t know if I can bear that. I think it might actually be worse.”
“You don’t know that, Adam. You don’t know for sure she’d stay. Doesn’t she at least deserve the benefit of the doubt?”
“I know you’re right, but what you’re suggesting…”
“Feels impossible,” she says, finishing my sentence. “Trust me. I’ve been there. When my mother stopped caring about me, I thought it’d be impossible to leave her. I blamed myself for months for being a bad daughter, but it took time for me to realize that blame was never on me. I didn’t deserve having to make that choice in the first place, so I sure as fuck shouldn’t have felt bad for making it.”
She takes my hands in hers, rubbing a thumb over my knuckles. “The guilt of telling your family the truth shouldn’t be on you, Adam. Not when he’s forcing you to make that decision in the first place.”
What she’s saying is true, but being true doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Let me get through my mother’s award, and then I’ll tell her. I promise.”
“Of course,” she says with a smile, pulling me closer so she can wrap her arms around my neck. “And I’ll be there when you do.”
I bury my face in her neck and find my comfort there. If she is with me, then I have nothing to fear. With her, I can do anything.
Thirty-Seven
Adam
“You’re not even dressed yet?”
Sage comes barreling out of her bedroom, her long, shimmery black gown gathered at her bare feet. She’s pushing her earrings into place before showing me her back, which I take as a sign that she needs me to zip it. Meanwhile, I’m still in my boxers on the couch, petting Roscoe while he sleeps and scrolling through the comments on our latest video. It’s a fifteen-second clip of me thrusting into Sage’s mouth as she gazes up at me with teary eyes. This one is doing almost as well as the last one and we’ve gained another ten thousand subscribers. I love that we can makerealvideos now.
“Holy fuck. You look amazing,” I stammer as I take in the way the fabric clings to her hips, making her look elegant and sexy at the same time. This dress is nowhere as revealing as the last one. The neckline is straight across her chest, from one collarbone to the other, and the sleeves hang delicately from her shoulders.
As much as I appreciate her in leather and lace—or nothing at all—I can appreciate this too.
“Thank you,” she mutters as she finishes attaching her earring, bouncing in place and clearly nervous. “We’re going to be late, though, if you don’t hurry.”
With a laugh, I ease Roscoe off my lap and stand to zip up her dress, pressing my lips to the back of her neck as I do.
It’s cute that she’s so nervous tonight, attending this as my real date, or rather, myrealgirlfriend. Although we never really made things official, I don’t think we had to. I’ve barely been to my own apartment in the last two months. I sleep here, eat here, and sometimes even write here. My place just feels cold and lifeless, even on the rare occasion she’s stayed there with me. This place feels more like home, which is strange.
