Page 48

STRONGER THAN HATE

BELLA

October

Chewing on my bottom lip, I glare at my phone like it’s a mousetrap.

Like the second I pick it up, it will cage me in.

Like the moment I read the text waiting on the screen, it’ll hold power over me.

Of course, she’d find out I’m back in Boston eventually, but I’m so fucking tired of this treatment, of her hatred. All I want is to move on.

I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen. Milo follows me closely. Coffee should help me clear my head. It’s the only thing I’m sure of right now: A healthy dose of caffeine will be my savior.

Once the coffee is brewing, I lean against the countertop and take a deep breath.

I inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale. It’ll all be okay.

I won’t let her ruin my life. I won’t let anyone destroy the peace I’ve worked so hard for.

This happy, healthy life I’ve created is too precious to give up.

Just the thought causes my chest to tighten.

I close my eyes and replay my last talk with Dr. Khan.

Needing closure is normal. Could that be why you haven’t blocked your mother? Why you still let her get to you? Could it be that you want to know why the woman who was supposed to be your biggest protector and supporter hates you?

Unfortunately, you may never get answers. When you’re ready, when her approval no longer matters to you, talk to her. Only then will she be powerless to harm you.

She’s right, but uncertainty is eating me alive. These stupid questions rear their ugly heads any time I hear from my mother.

What did I do to cause her to hate me? Yes, I stabbed her in the back by sleeping with Kevin, hoping to hurt her for all the pain she caused me, but that was long after her betrayals began. She couldn’t stand me from the moment I was born.

It’s like ocean waves lapping over sand, washing away all footprints. All the good memories I have of my mother have disappeared. Only doubts and pains remain.

When the coffee is ready, I pour a mug and fix it the way I like.

I hold it in both hands, soaking in the warmth and inhaling the strong aroma.

A rush of energy surges through my me, setting my whole body on fire.

Instantly, the heartache is replaced by memories of Xander’s hands on my skin, imbuing me with peace and tenderness.

After our incredible night, it was so hard to watch him go this morning for an early practice.

As I’m taking my first sip, the front door opens then closes again. Then Xander’s greeting Milo, who’s jumping around him, yipping happily.

“I kinda hoped you were still in bed,” he murmurs when I get to the foyer.

I shake my head.

“Have you seen the pictures?”

I nod. “Tom sent them to me.” I don’t mention my mom’s texts.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry. I made coffee.” I drag my feet back to the kitchen.

Coffee in hand, I sit in my old spot at the kitchen table. Xander joins me a moment later. He crouches in front of me, his hands on my knees.

“How are you really? This morning was probably a bit stressful.”

“A bit?” I let out a bitter laugh and bow my head. “There’s a picture of us all over the internet. Our secret is out, and I didn’t even have time to prepare for it.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He rubs his hands over my legs.

One fucking picture, and my calm and moderate life has come to an end. Though maybe this has more to do with my mother than the online trolls.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” I ask, raking my fingers through his damp hair. He smells like a mixture of soap and his distinct sandalwood scent.

“Planned to spend the day with my girl. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to see my mother.”

His eyes practically bug out of his head, and his mouth drops open. “Why?”

“I want to ask her a question. It shouldn’t take long.” I scoot forward in my seat, and he shifts back to help me stand. “I want to do it alone.” I rinse my mug and put it in the dishwasher. “I can handle it, but…I don’t think I’ll be okay after. Will you come and maybe wait in the car?”

“Anything for you.” He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “When do you want to leave?”

“I need to change, and then I’d like to go. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely.” He kisses my forehead. “What do you want to talk to her about?”

“I need to know why she hates me.” I slowly untangle myself from him, and he takes a step back.

It’s the right thing to do, for me and my future, even if I’m scared to know the truth. Her truth.

I knock on the door then step back, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders. I give Xander a weak smile. He’s waiting in the car like he promised. It means everything that he trusts me to deal with her on my own.

It’s going to hurt, but I’m ready to see her.

“Isabella?” Eyes the same color as mine pierce through me as my mother opens the door. “Can’t say I expected to see you again.”

“We need to talk.”

“Really?” She barks out a curt laugh. “As if we have anything to say to one another.”

I step inside, bumping my shoulder into hers on my way. “I won’t take much of your time.”

“What the hell are you doing?” she snarls, slamming the door. “Last time you were here you ran away, tail tucked between your legs, playing the victim. A rape victim. In reality?—”

“I’m a disgusting slut. That’s what you said when you called to tell me Kevin left you.” I head to the living room, ignoring her death glare. “Did you bother to ask Kevin about it? It was rape. He knows that.”

She takes two quick steps into the room, arms crossed. “Does he fucking talk to you?”

Good . I’ve piqued her interest. I’ll need to rile her up if I have any hope of getting her to tell me what I want to know.

“Isabella!”

“ So demanding .” I sneer, settling on the couch. “The days when your yelling affected me are gone. If you want to know something, ask me. Nicely . And I’ll think about answering you.”

I survey the room while I wait to see if she will, noticing a half-empty bottle of wine on the dining table and a full glass beside it.

She’s drinking. Kevin mentioned that in one of his messages.

My mother has never had a drinking problem, but since it’s not even lunchtime, maybe she’s forming one.

Not my problem, though. The second I get the answer to my question, I’ll be out of this house for good.

“I see you grew a backbone.” Finally, she sits on the couch, facing me. Her eyes are narrowed to slits, and hate swims in her gaze. Hate for me. “Talking back. Giving no shits about others?—”

“I finally stopped trying to please everyone. The only person I should care about is me. My mental health and my stability come first.”

“As if you weren’t like that as a child,” she hisses.

I clench my teeth and focus on breathing steadily. She can’t help herself, can she?

“You’ve always been a selfish bitch who doesn’t care about the consequences of her actions.”

“Are we talking about your ex-husband? About when I was sleeping with him?” I rile her up on purpose. I need her to fly off the handle so she won’t hold herself back. It’s the only way I’ll get the raw truth.

“So you admit it? That you fucked my husband behind my back? Continuously?”

“Yes.” I nod, dragging my nails over the cushion beside me. “At first it was without my consent, but then he fell in love with me, and eventually I gave in. I let him take what he wanted without resistance. I craved love from you, but you never gave it to me. But your husband did.”

“Sex isn’t love.”

My heart rate picks up. She knew how much I wanted her to love me; she just didn’t care.

“Kevin never loved you. To him, you were a young, submissive cunt. Nothing more.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mother. He loved me. He still loves me. Unlike you.” I hook one leg over the other and settle back into the couch.

“Interesting perspective.” She lets out a humorless chuckle, mimicking my posture. Her fingers are betraying her, though. She’s fiddling with the ring on her index finger. “He never complained, not until you?—”

“Because being with you was the closest he could get to me. That’s why he didn’t leave.”

Her shoulders stiffen, and her expression turns into one of annoyance. It brings me such a strong feeling of satisfaction that, for one second, I think I’m drowning. In my own anger .

“If you hadn’t hated me, or if you’d at least learned how to hide it, he would’ve stayed with you. He would’ve continued believing that by having you, he had me. It’s your fault he left, and yours alone.”

“Unbelievable,” she mumbles. “You have the audacity to come to my house and blame my divorce on me ? On me ?!”

“It’s my house too. Pretty sure my father left it to both of us.

Maybe we can sell it and split the money?

It’s obvious you don’t want anything to do with me, and the feeling is mutual.

” I force a polite smile. Am I cruel? Maybe.

But after all these years, I know her too damn well.

The only way to get the truth from her is to piss her off until she totally loses it. “What do you say?”

“I say you’re a lying little shit.” She snickers. “You lost the privilege to call this place home the second you spread your legs for your stepfather. For my fucking husband ! You have no right to even ask for?—”

“He raped me,” I grind out, my cheeks flaming.

“I had just come home from a party. I was in my bedroom, the door closed, changing my clothes, when my drunk stepdad burst into my fucking room. You had pissed him off, so he figured he’d punish you.

He wanted to fuck your daughter so you’d feel humiliated.

He came inside me over and over while you slept across the hall, thinking he’d crashed on the couch.

” I pat the cushion. “I had bruises all over my ass. Sure, you couldn’t see those, but the ones on my neck? You pretended you didn’t notice.”

She scoffs. “Sounds more like a sick fantasy to me.”