Page 50

•••

“Let me getthat for you,” I try, stopping my mother from getting up from her chair.

She clucks her tongue in protest but settles back into the rocking chair she loves so much, allowing me to add honey to her tea.

“Thank you,” she says, taking the cup from me before blowing on it gently.

I drop down into the chair that matches hers—one I imagine she purchased with visions of sitting out on the back porch with Alexander like we are now. I highly doubt it ever happened.

“So tell me about work,” Mom prods, offering me a small smile.

“Work is work,” I answer flippantly. “Nothing new there.”

“I heard your father talking about some big case you were all working on at dinner the other night.”

I clench my jaw at the mention of Alexander. I want to argue with her, but I know it won’t do anything but upset her, so I don’t.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I pick a piece of lint from my slacks aimlessly, scrambling for a topic other than work. Something that won’t end with her being upset. “How are the roses doing?”

She puffs out a sharp breath. “Found black spot on my tea roses the other day. Had to have Rita prune down half the bush to get rid of it all.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. You’ve always had a green thumb.”

“I used to,” she says softly. “On away days…sometimes I forget to look after them like I should.”

Away days.

It’s how she’s come to refer to the days when her mind retreats into that place that never really healed. She has good days and bad days, but ever since her…incident, there are times when it’s like she isn’t here at all. I’m just happy that today isn’t one of those days.

“Have they been getting worse?”

She takes a slow sip of her tea, not looking at me. “No, I don’t think so. No more so than usual. It’s better when Rita is here. It’s easier not to…go away when someone is here.”

A familiar wave of anger washes over me, knowing that Alexander gives her the bare minimum of attention. Eli is no better—poisoned by his own father to the very idea of Mom. Everything about her situation makes me sick to my stomach, more so because there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it. Nothing except being here as often as I can and doing whatever bullshit thing Alexander asks of me.

I study her then—taking note of the slight slump of her shoulders, shoulders that used to hold me up for piggyback rides. She was always so much larger than life, and now she looks…frail.Less of herself. If I could take her away from here, I would, but even if I could somehow fight Alexander and his hold on her, a part of me worries that his hold on her extends further than just a legal document. Part of me worries she wouldn’twantto leave him, and knowing that might actually break my heart for her. Even more so than it already does. It’s why I’m too chickenshit to bring it up.

“I don’t want to talk about my nonsense,” she huffs after a moment. “Tell me what’s new with you. Are you seeing anyone?”

My lips part in surprise—not because it’s the first time my mother has ever asked me this, but because it’s the first time I’m not sure how to answer. I can’t exactly say that the woman I’ve been fucking obsessed with and obsessed with fucking for months might finally be caving to the idea of tolerating me outside of sex.

My pause gives my mother the inch she needs, and she jumps all over it.

“Ezra Hart,” she says with a grin, reaching to smack my knee before setting her teacup on the little table between us. “Are you? Who is she?”

“It’s nothing, Mom.” I clear my throat, looking away from her guiltily. I don’t want to get her hopes up. “Just a casual thing.”

That’s safe, right?

“Casual is far more of an answer than I usually get out of you,” she chuckles. “Tell me about her.”

I know I shouldn’t; telling my mother about Dani only for this entire thing between her and me to implode in a matter of days or weeks as it most likely will is just setting her up for disappointment. Still, the smile on her mouth is so reminiscent of theoldher—the Jackie Hart before the incident and the medications and the entire fucking family falling apart…it’s enough to have me opening my mouth against my better judgment.

“She works at another firm,” I tell her. “She’s actually my opposing counsel on the Casiraghi case. She’s incredibly smart and probably the only person on the planet who takes as much joy as she does in putting me in my place. Honestly, she’s the only person I don’t mind losing to, as weird as that is. I kind of like it when she’s smug.”

“She sounds like a real keeper,” Mom laughs.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, staring down at the stained wooden deck as I think about Dani’s personality, which reminds me of a feral cat that I can’t stop trying to make like me.