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“No, you screwed up.” I’m so sick of having to bite my tongue around him. What’s the purpose of keeping the peace any longer? It’s not like we ever had an actual father/daughter relationship I care about saving. “You got yourself in this mess and set me an impossible task to fix it. How can you blame me?”
“It’s not that hard to get someone to buy a company. Especially since you’re sleeping with him for real, apparently.”
Well, not anymore. Connor made that clear.
My throat tightens, tears pricking my eyes before I will them away. “You made me continually lie to him. He lost all his trust in me.”
He gives a cynical laugh. “I know that tone. Don’t tell me you actually care about him. That you fell for him. He doesn’t love you back.”
“Not everyone’s like you.” God, it’s good to get this off my chest. “Some people are capable of human emotions.”
Silence again, and then, “Pack your stuff. Be out by tomorrow.”
I hang up, finally letting the emotion loose, my eyes burning as tears fall in hot splashes down my cheeks, shoulders hunching. I knew I was pushing it, but I still did it anyway.
It was time, though. I can’t rely on him forever the way Mom has.
I give myself another few minutes to feel sorry for myself, then brush away the tears, heading back out into the living room to break the news to Mom.
“Where will we go?” she asks, the confusion in her voice heartbreaking. But shouldn’t I be the one asking her that? She’s the parent, after all.
“I don’t know yet.”
“What are we going to do for money?”
Again, I don’t know. “I’ll find another job. I have a little saved from my Etsy shop too.”
She rubs her upper arms, glancing around the room. “We’re supposed to pack this all ourselves? And then put it where?”
“Mom, you’re asking me questions I don’t have the answers to. For now, how about you decide what’s most important to take with us?”
She shakes her head, seeming lost. “I’m calling Greg.”
Wow, she must be desperate if she’s actually going to initiate a call. She’s used me as an intermediary for years. “Go for it.”
I ransack all the cloth tote bags in the house I can find and bring them in my room, carefully packing all the materials I’ll need to finish Serena’s dress. That’s priority number one.
From Mom’s room, there’s quiet sobbing, interspersed withGreg, pleaseandwe just need some time. Doesn’t sound like it’s working too well, though, from the way she’s having to continually say it.
I shut my bedroom door, blocking out her voice, and sit at my desk, pulling up my bank app on my phone to check how much I have in my account. What sort of hotel can we afford? Man, what I would give for one of the properties Connor inherited. They must be sitting there unused.
A text comes through, panic coursing through me momentarily.
Serena:We still on for lunch today?
I completely forgot about the plans we made on Saturday, but I’ve kind of had other things on my mind. I guess she hasn’t heard the news, then. Should I break it to her about who I really am? Or wait to see if she finds out otherwise?
No, it should come from me.
Me:Are you busy? Can I call you?
I wipe my palms on my pants, suddenly realizing I should have thought about what to say before asking her to talk.
I nearly drop my phone as it rings. It’s her.
“Hello?” I immediately clear my throat, hating how hoarse I sound. “Serena?”
“Hey, is everything okay? Are you still able to make it for lunch?”