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This moment was inevitable, but I didn’t expect it tonight.
“You better have a damn good reason for lying to me.” My mom never swears. This isn’t going to go well.
I don’t know where to begin.
“Sit.” She points to the worn pleather sofa in our tiny living room. “And take your shoes off. You’re not going anywhere.”
In thirty minutes, Nolan’s going to be waiting for me outside The Crystal Menagerie restaurant on Freeborn Street.
With her hands resting firmly on her bony hips, she peers down her nose. For a petite woman, she’s got a menacing presence.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” I say.
“And who might that be?” She lifts a brow, head cocked.
“His name is Nolan.”
Frowning, she asks, “And why haven’t you told me about him?”
I bury my face in my hands, breathing through my fingers. “Because he’s older.”
“How much older?”
“In his forties.” He looks younger, though I don’t say that because I doubt it would matter. All she’s going to focus on is that number.
Mom gasps. “Sophie.”
I can’t look at her.
“He gives me money.” I realize how it sounds the moment the words leave my lips. “So I don’t have to work. He’s very generous. I’ve been paying some of Emmeline’s medical bills—”
“Oh my god.” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Are you sleeping with him?”
I don’t answer, which is apparently an answer in and of itself because now she’s pacing the room, mumbling under her breath.
“Do you know what an escort is?” she asks.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “It’s nothing like that. He cares about me. He’s my boyfriend.”
She clucks her tongue. “Don’t be so naïve. Men only care about one thing and if you think otherwise, you’ve got another think coming. He’s going to smash your heart into a million pieces. Just wait.” Mom paces some more. “Oh, god. Sophie. What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Just because Dad left you doesn’t mean Nolan’s going to leave me.”
Her cool gray eyes turn glassy. It’s an unspoken rule in our household never to bring up my father … now I know why.
“This isn’t worth getting upset over, Mom.” I spring up and grab a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She swipes it from my hand, catching a few tears that roll down her gaunt cheeks before dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
I hate to see her in pain, and knowing I’m the cause of this …
“He’s a good man.” I place a hand on her shoulder.
“He’s old enough to be your father,” she says. “It’s just wrong.”
“I’m an adult.”
“You’re in high school.”
“Only for a few more months …” I force a tight smile. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You have to trust me to make decisions like this.”
She peers out the window of our living room with its parking lot view, listless and silent.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem when he took me out to dinner that first night,” I remind her.
“It was different. We were about to be evicted and you swore to me it was only dinner.” She moves away, heading to the kitchen and unscrewing a bottle of wine before pouring a generous amount into a Mason jar. “Obviously you know this is wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t have been keeping it a secret all this time.”
“I only kept this a secret because I knew you were going to overreact.”
Her pointed stare trails to mine, slow and audacious. And she scoffs. “You think you’re grown now? Fine. Don’t come crying to me when this explodes in your face.”
Underneath it all, she means well.
She loves me and doesn’t want me to get hurt. There’s nothing I can say to change her mind … not now.
“That specialist Emmeline’s been seeing? He’s a friend of Nolan’s,” I say. “He’s paying for everything.”
Her mouth presses into a hard, thin line.
Ever since Nolan referred us to his friend’s research center, Em’s been making noticeable strides, and it’s only been a couple of months. At this rate, the experimental treatment could change her entire life. Ours too.
“You told me you found him online,” she says. “You said you applied for his program.”
“I said what I had to say.”
“Apparently.”
The loudest kind of silence settles between us.
“I’m leaving,” I say. My cheeks heat when I think of the true meaning of my words. I might as well be saying, “I’m going to have sex with my boyfriend … see you later.”
Mom finishes her wine, wordless, and I slip back into my shoes. She doesn’t try to stop me—not that she could.
Nolan and I are in love.
Nothing can keep us apart.
Twenty-Three
Trey
Present
“These were my father’s.” I open a box of Cuban cigars and slide them across my grandfather’s mahogany desk in the center of the study the next night.
Two hours ago, I sent a Town Car for Sophie. She arrived in a cloud of floral perfume. Tight jeans. Cashmere top. Silk headband with a leopard print. Tiny gold studs in her ears.
