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“Dani is…” I shake my head. “She’s something.”

“When can I meet her? You should bring her to dinner sometime.”

My smile dissipates. “I can’t bring her here.”

I don’t mean it to come out as harshly as it does, and I immediately regret my tone the second the words are out. My mother’s happy expression wavers, and I know just from looking at her that she’d almost allowed herself to forget just how fucked up this house is.

“Right,” she answers quietly. “Maybe some other time.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t.” Mom shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“It isn’t yours either,” I urge. “He can’t punish you forever. You shouldn’t belettinghim.”

Mom says nothing as she reaches for her cup, staring thoughtfully into her tea for a moment before bringing it to her mouth to sip. She holds it after, staring out over the backyard as she considers this.

“It’s not that simple,” she says finally.

I can’t help the snort that escapes me. “It could be. We could fight him. You know I would do anything I could to—”

“Let it go, Ezra.”

I’m breathing too hard, staring at my mother with my mouth hanging open. “Tell me why.”

“So many reasons,” she sighs. “But mostly…I won’t let my children suffer for me. Not any more than they already have.”

“But—”

Her head turns, her eyes capturing mine, and her smile is sad now, weighted down by years of heartache that I can’t help but feel a little responsible for. “I love you. You know that. But this isn’t a fight you can win. I’m not going to let you put yourself at risk just to try.”

My hands clench the arms of the rocking chair, and I have a strong urge to stand and throw it across the yard. Everything about her situation makes me feel so fucking helpless. I relax my grip instead, reaching to cover her hand with mine and giving it a much gentler squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

I don’t say for what. There’s no point. We both know exactly what I mean. We both know how much there is to be sorry for, and how much neither of us can change it.

I feel her thumb brush against the side of my hand in a slow back-and-forth. “So am I, sweetheart.”

Not for the first time, I ache with a desire for things to be different. For my mother to be happy and whole, for my family not to be so fucked up, for something to gorightfor a change.

My mind wanders to Dani unwittingly, and part of me wonders if this is why I push her so hard. Do I want her the way Ithink I do? Or do I just need something that I chose to go the way I chose it for once in my life? They’re questions I don’t have the answers to.

Just like I don’t have a good answer for why I want to see her so badly at this moment.

Thirteen

Dani

“Have we alreadylooked into her spending?”

I hear Nate hum absently from the speaker on my phone that lies a foot away on my bedspread, listening to him rifling through a stack of papers. “Pretty standard mistress stuff, if you ask me. Christ, the amount of money this woman spends on La Perla. How many pairs of underwear do you women need?”

“I’d say it’s preferable to wearing the same four pairs until holes form,” Vera remarks dryly from our three-way call.

Nate laughs. “Been going through my underwear drawer, have you?”

“Not without a hazmat suit and thick gloves,” Vera deadpans.