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I’m not the same Plainy Janey Williams.
“Okay, great. Glad you’re all lovey-dovey. Now, call Paisley and apologize.” She’s sticking to her script and ignoring anything I say to the contrary. I didn’t expect anything different. I’ve played this game before.
But this time, I’m not giving in.
I’ve grown too much, gotten too strong to care what Mom wants when she’s never cared about what I needed.
“No.” I don’t shake my head, and I don’t get loud. It’s a simple refusal of a ridiculous demand.
Mom’s brows climb her forehead as she looks at me like I grew a second head. “Excuse me, young lady? You will call your cousin and apologize like the polite, well-behaved woman I raised you to be.”
I laugh bitterly. “You raised me to be obedient. You raised me to be a silent target. You raised me to accept abuse, neglect, and loneliness. You raised me to hide myself away. Well, Mom . . .” I take a deep breath and stare right in her eyes. “Fuck that!”
Okay, that maybe wasn’t what I meant to say, but now that it’s out there . . . Yeah, fuck that!
Mom recoils as if I slapped her.
But my mouth is off and running. “Paisley is a horrible person. She has been since we were kids. And everything that happened was karma coming back to kick her in the ass for always being so cruel. I hope Max got a really good look at his future with her as his wife and I hope he runs, far and fast, to get away from her. That’s what she deserves.”
Mom’s jaw drops open.
“And how dare you show up uninvited, demanding this and insisting on that. In case you’ve forgotten, I got engaged. Not that you care.” To me, that’s the ultimate show of where her priorities lie. She met Cole, watched him propose to me, and then hasn’t said a word about it. Didn’t call, didn’t text, and jumped right in this morning like that didn’t matter.
She doesn’t know it was fake then. She doesn’t know that it’s real now.
She just doesn’t care . . . about me.
“What the fuck is going on here?” a voice bellows from the doorway.
Mom and I both jerk our eyes over. Cole is standing at the edge of the living room in athletic shorts and nothing else, his chest still damp from his shower. He probably heard me yelling and came running. Actually, I think the water is still on in the bathroom. That’s how fast he responded to my distress.
His eyes are hard and cold. Asshole Cole is here now, ready to protect me if need be. But I need to do this myself. I meet his gaze, silently letting him know that I’ve got this.
Still, he comes to my side, making me feel safe and loved without a single word and glaring openly at Mom, who’s ready to play the victim because the last thing she wants is an audience that’s on my side. “Cole! I’m glad you’re here. Janey’s refusing to apologize to Paisley—”
“Why would she apologize? Janey should be pressing charges against Paisley for assault.”
“Wha—” Mom utters. But then she shakes her head and tries to downplay the bouquet beatdown like it was a simple misunderstanding. “It was nothing. Just an emotional day . . . for everyone.” It’s the smallest allowance on her part, a teeny-tiny admission that maybe Paisley was a tad bit responsible for the fight. And she didn’t say it because she thinks it’s true or to appease me, but to placate Cole.
“She left a mark on Janey’s face,” Cole informs her icily.
They stare each other down for a long moment, and I watch, on the outside but seeing clearly from this vantage point for the first time.
“Mom,” I say, getting her attention. “I’m done. You need to leave now.”
I don’t mean with this conversation. I mean with . . . her. With my family.
There’s so much bottled up inside me, underneath the silver linings and sunshine, where I hid the dark thoughts about my mom. About my family. But bringing them out for her won’t do either of us any good. I’m not going to give her ammunition she’ll use against me, spreading gossip around to the family about me, and I’m not going to deal with that pain in front of her. She hasn’t earned my trust that way. In fact, she’s proven herself untrustworthy with my heart over and over.
And I’m done.
Like a switch.
“Janey—” she says, the condescension obvious in only the two syllables.
I shake my head and look at Cole. It’s all the signal he needs.
“You heard her. Get out. Now.” His tone brooks no argument, and he takes the coffee cup from in front of Mom, dropping it into the sink with a clatter.
Mom frowns. I think this is the first time she’s actually hearing me, and it’s because Cole is repeating what I’ve been saying all along. “Well, I never—”
