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“Why not?!” she nearly yells, and in the almost-empty restaurant, various sets of eyes travel in our direction.
“Because I have a job?”
She scoffs again, this time not bothering to hide her disdain. “You need a real job, Hannah.”
“I have a real job,” I grit through my teeth, trying not to lose my cool entirely. Sage was able to get me a part-time bartending job at Harry’s with her for the next couple months until I leave, but my mother doesn’t need to know that.
“Hannah, you’re being ridiculous.”
“No, Mom, I’m really not,” I say as the last bit of restraint I’ve been holding onto falls apart. Liam squeezes my leg below the table, his silent support giving me theconfidence to do what I’ve never had the will to do. “I am not a child.”
“You’re acting like—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” I shoot back before clearing my throat. “I’m twenty-seven years old, almost twenty-eight. I’ve worked my ass off for well over half my life to do what I do. What you think of it quite literally could not matter less to me.”
“Hannah, you’re being—”
“I’m not finished.” To my surprise she clamps her mouth shut in response. “You’re my mother, and for only God knows what reason, I love you. However, Mom, I love me more. So going forward, if you can’t figure out a way to unpack whatever your issue is, you will simply cease to be a part of my life. Do we understand each other?”
The intensity of her gaze is almost searing as she stares me down, her lips pursed tightly and her cheeks flushed bright red. I can feel the anger radiating off of her in waves, yet I refuse to look away. Time seems to stand still as we lock eyes, and I can almost swear that I see a vein throbbing in her forehead.
“You ungrateful lit—”
“Linda, enough!” my dad yells, his fist landing against the hard surface of the table, causing the silverware to rattle.
My mother’s angry gaze shifts from me to my dad in an instant, but the rage dies as her eyes meet his. I expect her to bite at him—she’s hardly ever been afraid to tell him what she thinks—but something in the way he’s looking at her now leaves me wondering what he’s said before this moment.
“I think it’s time we go,” my dad says as he stands, his cloth napkin landing firmlyagainst the table.
My mother instantly gets up without so much as a goodbye to any of us, but my dad pauses to press a kiss to the top of my head as he leaves.
Something tells me that is about to be an excruciating ride back to their hotel.
FIFTY-SIX
HANNAH
“Are you planning on helping?” Jackson huffs, dropping the box markedBedroomonto the hardwood floor. He pushes his dark brown hair back, the combination of the sweltering Atlanta heat and the five trips he’s already made up to Liam’s high-rise apartment today clearly leaving him exhausted.
“But you do it so well…” I pout, but a grin pokes through.
“It wasn’t cute when you said it before, and it’s not cute now. Come help.”
I sigh as I jump off the barstool I’ve been seated at as I unpacked a random box containing a slew of random items. When I packed everything and put it in storage to move out of mine and Sage’s apartment last year, I wasn’t particularly concerned with it making a lick of sense, just ensuring it made it into my storage unit.
Today, as I move into Liam’s apartment, I’m reminded of what a terrible decision that was.
The month and a half I spent living with Gen and Jackson again wasn’t bad, but I felt like I was constantly in their way. Ican’t imagine I’d want Jackson in mine and Liam’s space, so I can’t say I necessarily blame them.
Liam appears in the doorway of his—uh, our apartment with a massive cardboard box in his arms. His dark eyes are filled with irritation as he glares at me. The scowl plastered on his face gives me a feeling that he and Jackson share the same sentiment as I move toward the door.
“No time to relax, gotta go grab a box,” I say far too enthusiastically as he blocks the doorway, his irritated expression from before morphing into amusement.
“What have you been doing?”
“Organizing.”
“What have you been organizing?”
