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I grab a yellow bag of chocolate chips and go to drop it in the cart when my gaze drifts casually to movement at the other end of the aisle.
My heart stops beating and the blood freezes in my veins when I see the faded denim hugging familiar hips; the straggly, frizzy blonde hair of the woman I never wanted to see again.
My mother’s moving at a brisk pace and doesn’t notice me until she’s halfway down the aisle.
I’m frozen in place, all the breath sucked from my lungs, still clutching a bag of chocolate chips.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Wow, guess you’re alive. Sure haven’t been talking to your momma, have you? Guess you don’t need me anymore.”
Her hateful gaze rakes over me. She takes in the nice cashmere sweater Milo bought me, the $300 purse sitting in the seat of the cart, then her gaze locks on the diamond ring on my finger and her eyes go wide.
She grabs my wrist. I drop the chocolate chips into the cart and lack the power to yank my hand away as she brings it closer. “Is that a ring?” she asks, her voice low and hateful. “Is that a fuckingengagementring?”
She looks to me for an answer, but I can’t speak.
“You’reengaged?” she demands, her voice rising.
A woman at the other end of the aisle looks our way, then hastily leaves the aisle to avoid us.
Let go of me.
I tell my throat to work, to let the words out and get her hands off me, but I can’t find a single syllable. The thought surfaces that she might not be here alone. Thathecould be with her. But he’s not in this aisle, and I can’t really imagine them grocery shopping together.
The thought of him turns my stomach and I finally yank my hand out of her grip.
I look down at the cart, my thoughts discombobulated. Do I have everything I need? I think the chocolate chips were the last thing.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
“You were sleeping with him the whole fucking time, weren’t you?” she demands furiously.
I shake my head, but then I stop myself.
I don’t owe her any explanations.
I need to get away from her.
“You expect me to believe you’re engaged now and you weren’t screwing him all along? I bet you were sleeping with him while we were together. That’s why he never wanted to sleep with me, he’d just go over to the next room and fuck my slut daughter instead.”
Bile rises at the thought of him with her.
Fuck it.
I grab my purse and abandon the cart, turning and practically running away from her. I’m panicked about her following me, but we’re in a public place. She won’t do that in public, will she?
I’m not sure. I fumble around in my purse for my phone as I make a beeline for the exit and fly out the door on shaky legs that can hardly do the job of carrying me.
I have Milo’s SUV since I don’t have a car of my own to replace the one my mother took out of the driveway. Milo has been looking at them, but we haven’t made a purchase yet.
I look behind me before I open the car door to make sure she isn’t following, then I fling myself into the automobile, pulling the door closed and quickly locking them.
My hands shake as I try to text. I get aggravated, so I push the microphone button and say, “Is Jet there? Could he bring you up here to drive me home? I just ran into my stupid mother at the store and right now my muscles are the consistency of jelly. I don’t trust myself to drive.”
The message registers as read and then my phone is ringing a second later.
“Where are you? Are you okay?” Milo demands.
