Page 133 of An Inevitable Marriage

There was no time to process the magnitude of his words. He stole my breath with a bone-melting kiss that curled my toes. A kiss that turned my world upside down and righted it just as fast.

But before I could even think about deepening it, he pulled back. His thumb was back on my bottom lip again, gently sliding over my skin. “Go call your mother.”

Then he got out of bed and strode to the bathroom, leaving me to stare at the masterpiece that was his ass.

It was only when the door clicked shut that I snapped out of my stupor. I huffed out a laugh, then immediately covered my mouth with my hands. Did Liam really tell me he loved me?

Closing my eyes, I replayed his words over and over again. And the more I thought about it, the faster those butterfly wings fluttered against my insides. How did we get to this? How did we find each other when everything around us was falling apart?

The sound of the shower turning on drew me back to the present and Liam’s request. Maybe he was right, and she missed me, too. And both our stubbornness was keeping us from contacting each other.

I slipped out of bed, and with a sheet wrapped around my body, padded back to my room. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and almost groaned at the number of unread messages.

I’d get to them later.

First, I had to call my mom while I still had the courage. Heart hammering against my ribs, I scrolled down to her name and tapped the call button.

It rang and rang and freaking rang. Disappointment flooded my veins, and just as I was about to hang up, the call finally connected.

“Hi, Mo—”

“I asked you not to do this, Everlee. And yet you did it anyway.”

The ice in her tone chilled me to the bottom of my soul. “Wha—”

“And to make matters worse…” She didn’t even give me time to get the word out. “You go and fill your sister’s head with your nonsense, too. IknowI raised you better than this.”

Touching a hand to my forehead, I sank onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t understand, Mom. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” my mom snapped with an unfamiliar sneer. “Your sister seems to think that me wanting my children here with me,where they belong, equates to me being a control freak…her words, not mine. Or maybe they’reyourwords.”

Venom dripped from every syllable leaving her mouth.

“And then,” she went on, voice all high and pitchy. “I had to find out through an article Bessie at the bakery sent me that my older, supposed-to-be-smarter-more-responsible daughter married for money. For money!”

Two big claws of ice wrapped around my throat and squeezed.

“What article?”

She made an incredulous noise. “You’re not even denying it. And I wasn’t wrong, was I? You said vows to a man who pays women for sex!” A harsh breath left her mouth. “I’m so incredibly disappointed. Did you do this to punish me for asking you to come home? Is that what this is? One big temper tantrum?”

Something inside me snapped. “Iamhome. New York is my home, Mom. Maybe it’s not yours, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is you, the woman I admired and aspired to be like my whole life, suddenly becoming this judgmental, controlling person I don’t even recognize.”

My mom sucked in a sharp breath, but I wasn’t done.

“I’ve always been open and honest with you, Mom. I told you I wanted to do this. I never hid it. I didn’t make up some elaborate story about how I suddenly fell in love and decided to get married. I was honest. Because I trusted in your unwavering support. In your unconditional love. You’re not the only one disappointed, Mom.”

I’d never spoken to my mom like that. It was an awful, awful feeling. Tears ran down my face, and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop them.

“I didn’t fill Cece’s head with anything. She makes her own decisions. You know why? You raised us to be strong and open-minded. I’m sorry you’re hurting or that you feel helpless because the person who’s been your rock is tied to a hospital bed right now. I’m sorry about all of it. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done.”

My voice broke in the last few words. Pain seared my chest, going deeper with every moment of silence that stretched between my mom and me.

“I don’t know who you are,” she finally whispered solemnly.

My lips trembled. “I’m still me, Mom.Yourdaughter.”

She was quiet for so long, I wondered if she was still there. I started to pull my phone away from my ear to check when she spoke in a soft, broken voice.