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My mother and I are on the path to the relationship I always dreamed we would have. She’s learning that I am a woman, young but capable of making my own decisions. And I’m learning that she never intended to become the woman she is now. She was broken by my father all those years ago, and she never recovered. She’s working on that now, sort of in a parallel way to how I am.
I was surprised when she told me she had met someone and has been dating for a few weeks now. The biggest surprise of all was that the man, named David, is not a lawyer, not a doctor, and doesn’t drive a luxury car. He owns a bakery in town, and he laughs more than anyone else I’ve ever met. He has a ten-year-old daughter, who has taken a strong liking to trying on my clothes, which are far too big on her small frame, and to letting me practice my slowly developing makeup and hairdressing skills on her. She’s a sweet girl, named Heather, and her mother passed away when she was seven. The biggest surprise of all is how sweet my mother is to that girl. David brings something out in my mother that I have never before seen, and I adore the way she laughs and smiles when he is around.
“How much time do I have?” I turn to my mother and step into my shoes, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes when I choose the lowest-heeled ones in my closet. I am already a nervous wreck; the last thing I need to add to my anxiety is walking in heels.
“Five minutes, if you want to arrive early, which I know you do.” She shakes her head and pulls her long blond hair to one shoulder. It’s been an amazing and emotional experience to watch the shift in my mother, to watch some of the stone crack, and to watch her become a better version of herself. It’s nice to have her support today—especially today—and I am thankful that she has kept her opinion of my going to the ceremony to herself.
“I hope traffic isn’t bad. What if there’s a wreck? The two-hour drive could easily turn into four hours, and my dress will be wrinkled and my hair will be flat and—”
My mother cocks her head to one side. “You will be fine. You’re overthinking things. Now, apply some lipstick and get on the road.”
I sigh and do exactly what she says, hoping that everything will go as planned. For once.
Chapter sixty-five
HARDIN
I groan, staring at the hideous black gown in the mirror. I’ll never understand why I’m being forced to wear this shit. What’s wrong with wearing normal clothes during the ceremony? My street clothes would already be color coordinated with the mass of black anyway.
“The dumbest fucking shit I’ve ever worn in my life, hands down.”
Karen rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, come on. Just wear it.”
“Pregnancy is making you a lot less tolerable,” I tease her, and move out of the way before she can smack my arm.
“Ken has already been at the Coliseum since nine this morning. He will be so proud to see you dressed in this gown and walking across the stage.” She smiles as her eyes gloss over. If she cries, I’m going to need an exit. I’ll just slowly walk out of the room and hope her vision is too blurry for her to follow.
“You make it sound like I am going to prom,” I grumble, adjusting the stupid material that is swallowing my entire body.
My shoulders are tense, my head is throbbing, my chest is burning in anticipation. Not because of the ceremony or the diploma—I couldn’t give a shit less about either of those. The overwhelming anxiety stems from the possibility that she might be there. Tessa is the only reason behind my putting on this show for everyone; she is the one who convinced (well, conned) me into going in the first place. And if I know her as well as I know I do, she’ll be there to witness her triumph.
Though her calls have become less and less frequent, and her texts have become practically nonexistent, she will come today.
An hour later, we are pulling into the parking lot of the Coliseum, where the graduation is being held. I agreed to ride with Karen after the ninetieth time she asked me. I would have preferred to drive myself, but she’s been clingy lately. I know she’s trying to compensate for Tessa’s departure from my life, but nothing will fill that gap.
Nothing and no one would ever provide what Tessa has provided for me; I will always need her. Everything I do, every single day since she left me, is only to be better for her. I’ve made some new friends—okay, two friends. Luke and his girlfriend, Kaci, are the closest things I have to friends, and they are okay company. Neither of them drinks much, and they definitely don’t come close to spending their time at shitty parties or making bets. I met Luke, who is a few years older than me and being dragged to couple’s therapy once a week, during my weekly session with Dr. Tran, mental health professional extraordinaire.
Okay, not really; he’s a scam artist I pay $100 an hour to, to listen to me talk about Tessa for two hours a week . . . but it does make me feel better talking to someone about all the shit inside my head, and he’s decent at listening to me.
“Landon said to remind you that he’s really sorry that he couldn’t make it. He’s so busy in New York,” Karen tells me as she pulls into the parking space. “I promised him that I would take a lot of pictures for him today.”
“Yay.” I smile at Karen and climb out of the car.
The building is packed, the stadium-style seats filled with proud parents, relatives, and friends. I nod at Karen when she waves to me from her seat in the front. Being the wife of the chancellor gives some advantages, I guess. Like front-row seats to a fun-filled graduation.
I can’t help but attempt to find Tessa in the crowd. It’s impossible to see half the faces because the damn lights are so bright and blinding and excessive. I would hate to see how much this extravagant ceremony is costing the university. Finding my name on the seating chart, I smile at the grumpy woman who is in charge of seating. She’s annoyed, I’m guessing, because I missed the rehearsal. But, really, how complicated could this shit possibly be? Sit. Name called. Walk. Take worthless piece of paper. Walk. Sit back down.