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"I went for a walk."
Mom hums thoughtfully, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. "Don't lie to me, Isobel. You're dreadful at it. Tell me the truth. Now. Were you with someone?"
I don't really see a point in lying, so I nod. "Yes."
Her lips curl into a sneer. "Was it Judah Hale?"
My stomach drops as whatever grip I'd managed to keep on my anxiety is lost. How could she know? The panicked look must be as good as an admission to her because Mom nods shortly, drumming her fingers on her knee. "I thought as much. You've been working very hard to make us look like horrible people with him, haven't you? Heattackedyour father last night because of whatever you've told him." She scoffs and gets to her feet, smoothing her linen dress. "You've had every opportunity in the world, we've given you every advantage in life, and still you resent us. Do you know why you aren't in the same position as your sister Isobel?Your feelings."
I don't reply. I can't because my throat is tight, and I can barely breathe. I don't want to hear this. Her cool indifference was one thing, but this-
Mom shakes her head, looking disgusted, as though she can hear everything I'm thinking, and it's only proving her point. "Your inability to separate yourself from your emotions makes youweak, Isobel. Judah Hale is a powerful, well-respected man, and you reduce yourself to whispering lies in his ear and playing the damsel in distress to get his attention."
My eyes are burning, and my heart is broken, but I force myself to keep looking at her. She's throwing every horrible, hateful thing she can think of at me, andit hurts. It hurts so much, but with a dizzying burst of realization,I know she's wrong.
This woman is horrible, and she's wrong, and I'm so done giving her horrible, wrong words power over me.Fuck. This.
She's clearly about to keep going, her eyes are narrowed, and her thin lips are open, more hateful words poised on the tip of her tongue when I say it. "Shut up."
Silence. Complete, ringing silence.
"What did you just say to me?" Mom asks after a long moment, her voice dangerously quiet.
I hold my head high and repeat myself. "I told you toshut up, Mom. I would rather be an emotional, anxious wreck every day of my life than be like you, and guess what else?I didn't have to tell Judah a single thing about youfor him to see what kind of a person you are. He hates you because ofyou, not because of me."
Mom waits quietly until I'm done, staring at me with quiet, cold fury burning behind her eyes. When I've finally fallen silent, my heart beating wildly, she walks slowly toward me. I see it coming, expect it, and still, I don't raise a hand to defend myself. A part of me wants it to happen.
My head turns with the force of her slap, and as I straighten up, I touch my burning cheek in dazed disbelief.She hit me.
"Let me make myself very plain, Isobel Bradley," Mom says quietly, moving past me to the door. "If I get even an inkling, you're still seeing that man, or if you embarrass this family further inany way, you're on your own. No more support from your father or me, no more tuition money, no more apartment. Men like Judah get bored, and shortsighted little sluts who open their legs for them get thrown out like yesterday's trash."
I started running my sophomore year of college right after having a very public panic attack in the middle of a final exam. My parents were furious, especially when the school psychologisthighly recommendedI take a semester off to focus on my mental health before returning. I was forced to return home, working at a local diner just to stay out of my parent's way, and I can't remember a time when I felt more broken. I started running to get out of the house, but it quickly became a way to work off frustration or stress.
I've never needed it more, though admittedly, crossing back over to Judah's bungalow and waking him up with my mouth around his cock was a good alternative. I need to think, though, and possibly ice my cheek because I'm pretty confident that if he saw me with a slap mark on my face, he would burn down the entire resort just to get at my mother.
Though she didn't go into details about what "attacking" Dad means, the fact that Mom deduced Judah and I are sleeping together from it leads me to believe that whatever he did was in my defense. Theonly timeI've seen him angry has been at my parents for how they treat me.
He's been fighting for me since the first day we met.
I have to double over, gasping for air and clutching my burning thighs as I reach the end of the strip of beach I'm running on. Tears are blurring my vision, and for the first time in probably my whole life, they aren't from feeling bad things.
I'm in love with him.
He's the bossiest, most protective, sweet man on the planet, and he wantsme. I have no idea why or how I can possibly be good enough for him, but I can't keep those walls around my heart anymore. Not falling for Judah Hale is hard work, and I'm so damn tired.
I don't want to be a burden to him, though, and I don't want him to look at me as some kind of obligation. What will his friends and family think about a broke, homeless twenty-three-year-old crashing in his bed? That's what will happen if I don't fall in line with what my mom wants. God knows medical school is out now, which means all I'll have is a mostly finished bachelor's degree in a field I want nothing to do with and a few months of work experience as a waitress. The only thing in my life that I really love is volunteering at the daycare, but I don't have the necessary education to actually get a job there.
I'm so preoccupied and deep in thought that as I start running again, I almost miss the figure huddled on a lounge just under a towering palm tree. Movement catches my eye, though, and I turn, my heart dropping into the sand at the sight of Evie's tear-streaked face.
"Evie!" I gasp, hurrying over and dropping onto the lounge chair across from her, "What's wrong?"
She cries harder at my words, turning away so I can't see her. "I'm fine." She blubbers, shaking her head. "Really, Isobel. I'm just nervous about the wedding."
Normally, I would assume she doesn't want me around and keep running, but a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like Judah keeps me glued to the spot. "Evie," I say cautiously, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Is it Reuben? Are you guys alright?"
She lets out a watery laugh and finally turns to give me a pained smile. "Reuben is perfect. Really, Isobel, you don't have to stay. I've interrupted your run."
"I was getting tired anyway." I swing my legs up onto the lounge chair so we're reclining side-by-side. "I'll just sit with you if you want. It sucks to be alone when you're sad."
