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The anger builds within me, an inferno threatening to consume everything in its path. How could he have manipulated me like this? I had believed him, trusted him, thought he might be different. But in the end, he was just like everyone else, looking out for his own interests.
With trembling hands, I pick up my phone, my heart pounding as I scroll through my contacts to find Chase’s number.
Chapter 41
Chase
The sun casts a warm, golden glow over Venice Beach as we sit out on the restaurant’s patio overlooking the picturesque California shore. The decor matches the atmosphere of the beach, with shades of turquoise and sandy neutrals adorning the interior. It’s the perfect place to celebrate my mother’s birthday, and she deserves nothing less.
My mother is in her late fifties but looks much younger in her flowing, long summer dress, a cascade of pastel blues and delicate floral patterns. A wide-brimmed sunhat perches atop her head, shielding her fair complexion from the harsh rays.
“You shouldn’t have,” she says, her voice soft and filled with gratitude as she gestures around the area. It’s a familiar refrain, one she’s uttered countless times over the years. Of course I have planned everything down to the last detail. I picked one of the best and most expensive places in the area and I made the reservation weeks ago. I ensured that she was greeted by name, with a drink specifically created to her tastes. I know she deserves this—and so much more—for all the sacrifices she’s made for me.
“It’s way too much, Chase,” she adds, leaning closer because she’s whispering, as if we were doing something illicit.
“I’ll never listen to that, and you know it,” I respond.
Her warm smile is a beacon of kindness, and her eyes, a gentle shade of blue, reflect a lifetime of love and nurturing. But I can see the insecurity, a slight unease that she’s trying to hide with her gracious demeanor. She’s a humble woman and always will be.
Her shoulders tense when the waiter arrives at our table to serve our first course. And her eyes widen with appreciation when the noble dish is placed in front of her.
“Seared Hokkaido Scallops with Champagne Beurre Blanc,” the waiter announces—and I almost burst out laughing when my mother casts me an amused, but quizzical look across the table.
“I didn’t understand half of what he was saying, but I love scallops,” she says after the waiter has left our table. “These look great.”
“I’m sure they are,” I say. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
She throws me a warm smile and reaches across the table to give my hand a quick squeeze before she turns her attention to the scallops.
“So, what’s been bothering you so much lately?” she asks, without looking at me.
Caught by surprise, I almost choke on my scallop, which causes her to laugh.
“What do you mean?” I ask, meeting her amused smile.
“Oh, come on, Chase. I’m your mother. Of course I notice when something is bothering you,” she says. “You’ve been in a world of your own ever since I got here yesterday. Remember last night, when you wanted to make me a tea, and forgot to put the kettle on the stove? And you keep glancing at your phone, as if you’re expecting something important. Something is up, and don’t you try to deny it!”
“It’s just… work stuff,” I try to save myself. “You know how it is, I have a stressful job.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes at me. “We both know that’s not it, Chase.”
I meet her gaze, feeling the weight of her words, and for a moment, the turmoil that’s been brewing within me threatens to spill over. But this is her special day, and I can’t burden her with my own troubles. Instead, I offer her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand in return.
“Today is about celebrating you, Mom. Let’s not—”
“You!!” A voice bellows from somewhere.
A familiar voice.
I turn to my right, and can’t hide my surprise, when I see Madison marching toward our table, pointing at me with her right index finger, and her cheeks flushed. She looks oddly misplaced in her office attire, a black pencil skirt and a light-blue blouse, as she strides to our table on black heels.
“How could you!” she cries at me, as she comes to a halt right next to our table. And before I know it, she reaches for the glass of water that’s standing next to my plate and empties it into my face.
“How could you do this to me! I fucking trusted you!” Madison goes on.
I’m still busy wiping the water out my face. “Mad—”
“No!” she shouts. And before I know it, she reaches for my mom’s glass of water, and throws the contents of that one into my face as well. “I’m talking! I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuse, you foul monster! You’ve been playing me all along, haven’t you?! You deceitful, lying bastard—”
