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The next day, I was conflicted.

I was excited for different things, but dreading one specific inevitable event of the day.

My mother.

Aside from that, it was a good day.

I slept in, waking up to the usual morning text from Monroe.

I filled her in last night on what I had done with my time, and then she was interested in my plans for the day.

I texted her the full list of plans that I knew I had were set in stone.

Then I drove over to eat breakfast with Zion and Sarai.

The french toast was delicious—I had a second serving even if it made me uncomfortably full.

I had class after, so it wasn't the most ideal thing.

All I wanted to do was sleep.

Once two o'clock struck, I was beyond ready to head home and bury myself under my covers.

Luckily, I hadn't heard anything from my mother.

Not since our phone call yesterday.

I knew that didn't mean she had canceled her plans to come to Seattle.

She would be here, I just didn't know when.

But I refused to text her and ask that question myself.

So I briefly texted Monroe about how class was and then I took my nap.

It was one of my best naps, especially with my blackout blinds closed—and the sandwich I ate before.

I was knocked out for two hours, waking up at four to make myself somewhat presentable.

Because I knew my mother would be here at any given time and I truly didn't want to give her any reason to talk shit.

Taking a nap, doing nothing, and looking unpresentable would only give her fuel.

So I took a shower and quickly got dressed in jeans and a cheetah print long-sleeve shirt, sitting at my kitchen island as I checked on any online assignments.

There was nothing due so I decided to work ahead.

It looked better than being on TikTok or watching TV if she did arrive while I was doing this.

I also texted Kaia since she was out of class now.

I told her last night about my mother flying in, so we had been texting throughout the day.

She kept checking in on me, which felt nice.

She genuinely understands my situation to a different degree.

She's lived a similar experience, so it always feels nice to talk to her.

Kaia relates differently.

Zion and Sarai's support was still very nice, especially since they texted in our group chat throughout the day.

But I don't know, it's always going to be different with Kaia.

Just like how it is with Monroe.

She makes me feel calm in a different way—her words always register differently.

I glanced away from my laptop, hearing my front door lock click, which meant someone had pressed the key fob to it.

The door was lightly pushed open—

And in walked my mother as if this was damn near her apartment.

I guess she pays for it so whatever.

For once, her team wasn't with her—probably instructed to wait downstairs.

I'm hoping that meant this was a quick check-in.

She was in her usual work clothes—a pink blouse with white dress pants.

Her caramel hair was down and parted, wearing neutral makeup.

It's almost like she had her full day of work and then hopped on a plane for a two-hour flight to Seattle.

"Liberty," she spoke first, eyeing my clean apartment.

My bed was made like usual and everything had its place.

I focused on the current online quiz I was completing, not bothering to acknowledge her as she let the front door fall shut.

"Your apartment looks nice," she said, immediately making my stare shift away from my laptop, contemplating if I hallucinated her compliment.

I was unsure what to say—if I could say anything without hearing something backhanded in response.

"Let's move past yesterday's phone call and have a good evening," my mother offered, walking over to me as I silently stared at her, "We can have dinner and you can catch me up on your life."

I blinked a few times, wondering if I was hallucinating this.

But no, this is real.

My mother is being... cordial?

She seems interested in my life, I think, and she even complimented my apartment.

"Okay?" I said, furrowing my brows as I tried not to seem taken aback by this.

It's rare that she ever acts like this.

I mean, five whole minutes without insulting me?

"You know Seattle best, is there a specific restaurant that you enjoy?" she asked me, walking closer to stand by me.

I shrugged, "It depends on what you want but," I suddenly paused, pursing my lips together in thought.

Especially when a certain place came to mind.

One closer to a certain woman.

The idea of being close made me feel safe.

"Alto's is a really good restaurant," I suddenly said, my stare shifting back to my mother who stood waiting, "I should probably get dressed in something more appropriate for the setting."

My mother nodded—and for once, she didn't verbally pick apart my casual outfit.

She just... remained silent, allowing me to walk off?

It was odd.

I felt like I was living some Freaky Friday situation.

But I tried to enjoy the change, I was just scared to expect anything from her.

Then I would be disappointed in the end.

Somehow that always happens.

So I decided not to think too much of her odd behavior, getting dressed in a flowy black skirt and a lacy long-sleeve shirt with short heels.

I kept my curly hair down, framing my face covered in minimal makeup.

My mother waited patiently for once, not rushing me as I exited my bedroom.

Then we headed down to the parking garage where numerous SUVs waited—some that her team sat spread out in.

I knew it all came with the governor title she currently holds—and is working on keeping.

Since my mother seemed to be trying to be decent, I tried as well.

I didn't mean-mug her assistant that we slid into the backseat with—and I didn't possess any attitude.

I just remained to myself, briefly texting Monroe my plans before staring out of the dark windows at the downtown traffic.

It wasn't as bad since it was a little past six.

Almost seven actually.

But Alto's completely contrasted the light traffic.

It was busy as usual at the restaurant—with so many people waiting.

But once my mother's assistant spoke to the hostess, suddenly they found a way to open a table for us.

It was... weird being here after last time.

All I could think about was Monroe's car.

I kept subtly glancing over to the table Monroe and Dr. Kincaid sat at all those nights ago, thinking back to that night.

"So I see therapy has been going well for you," my mother spoke, snapping my attention away from the table in the distance.

My eyes settled on her instead, "Yeah," I said, unsure what else to provide.

It just felt like I needed to tread carefully—like she would snap back to her usual self.

"I'm glad it helped you make a breakthrough," she said, taking a brief sip of her water.

I nodded, "I haven't had alcohol in two weeks," I said, feeling accomplished by the goal I surpassed.

"That's good," my mother determined, carefully setting her glass back down.

I nodded stiffly, unsure if I should thank her, so I remained silent.

"How has school been?" she suddenly asked me.

I shrugged, "The usual—this last semester isn't hard at all," I briefly explained, unconsciously glancing around for when our food would finally come.

It's weird making small talk with her.

I haven't done it in so long.

Not like this.

"I hear you're seeing someone?" my mother asked, immediately piquing my interest and making my brows furrow.

"Where did you hear that?" I immediately said, wondering if she had been talking to any of my friends.

Probably Kaia.

I swear if Kaia—

"I have a team of people who are resourceful, Liberty," my mother briefly explained, making me narrow my eyes, "It's nice to hear that you're spending your time with someone rather than doing that sleeping around thing that I always hear about."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her backhanded compliment.

"I'm not seeing anyone," I said, shutting down her assumptions, "Did Kaia tell you that?"

My mother tilted her head, "Kaia... who is that again?" she asked, which wasn't surprising.

She never bothers to remember anything about my life.

"My best friend, hello?" I said, scoffing at the last part.

My mother sighed in response, "Liberty, we're having a nice dinner. Don't do this," she said, clearly referring to my attitude.

Like I was the crazy one for catching an attitude after she didn't even remember my best friend's name.

It's on her.

It's not your fault.

I let out a deep sigh as her familiar voice echoed in my head, relaxing slightly against my chair.

For once, I found my composure—focusing only on Monroe's words that she said just yesterday.

"Fine," I suddenly said, glancing over when I noticed the waitress approaching our table with our food.

At least I could focus on eating now.

I smiled and briefly thanked the waitress as she sat my bowl down—my mother said a brief thank you to her as well when she sat hers down too.

I picked up my fork and spoon, using the fork to twirl the spaghetti against the spoon as I was taught.

"It seems you're learning a lot of new things," my mother said, watching as I took my prepared bite of spaghetti, "I'm impressed, Liberty."

I nodded, chewing my spaghetti as I tried not to let her sudden validation affect me.

"Thanks," I murmured, taking a sip of my water as I glanced out of the large windows we sat by.

That's when I noticed the people.

Groups of people.

And the cameras.

A flash went off before I was prepared, making me unconsciously shield my face with my hand.

"Can we move?" I said, turning away from the window when numerous flashes went off.

"Being seen together could be a good thing, Liberty," my mother murmured, taking another bite of her pasta as she remained unaffected.

I narrowed my eyes at her, analyzing her face.

Her entire appearance.

Then I thought about how nice she's being, how her assistant handled our table and had us seated by a window.

Coming to Seattle to simply check on me before I possibly fuck up again should've been a red flag.

She never checks on me—not even to prevent something from happening.

She probably only noticed the lack of credit card charges because she had to.

She had to find something to text me about, so she could have an excuse to come here.

And do a photo op.

All for her stupid fucking campaign.

"Are you serious right now?" I suddenly said, shaking my head in disbelief at her as more annoying flashes went off, "You called them didn't you? I know how this works."

My mother shrugged as she met my stare, "People were asking questions. It's been too long since we were seen together," she briefly explained.

I tightly pursed my lips together, nodding to myself.

This all makes sense now.

How nice she was being—the genuine interest in my life.

It was all to benefit her.

It always is.

"Of course, this was your intention all along," I said, pushing my bowl away from me as I reached for my phone.

"I took interest in your life, Liberty, and you helped me with something in mine," she briefly explained as I shook my head at her, trying to ignore the group of people at the window, "Don't make this a big deal. It was a mutual exchange."

"Something is only mutual if both people are aware—you are such a liar," I scoffed, standing from my chair and making a few people glance over, which immediately earned a sigh from her, "But maybe I will make this into a big deal. Maybe I'll fuck it all up for you."

My mother removed the napkin from her lap, "Liberty, sit down. You're causing a scene—"

"I no longer care anymore. I'm done," I suddenly said, eyeing her in my own disapproval for once, "You can keep throwing yourself into your career and pretending like you didn't ruin your relationship with your only daughter—your only lifeline to your husband who died. But I've done nothing to you to be treated like someone worse than your child, and at the end of the day, I can say that. But what can you say when you're all alone in the house he died in? Sleeping in an empty bed with no one who truly supports you?"

She was silent for once.

For once I had silenced her with my words—with my changed perspective.

Her brows were furrowed at my harsh words, and I realized I had finally hurt her.

My words finally fucking hurt her.

But it didn't feel as good as I thought it would.

It made me want to cry, suddenly hating the idea of hurting my mom like that.

I see a piece of her now.

I see who she used to be as she sits before me, digesting probably the most harsh thing I've ever said to her.

"All you'll ever be able to say was that you were a governor. Not a wife and definitely not a mother," I suddenly forced out, trying to keep a strong front, especially since I knew I would be yelled at.

Or calmly spoken to in a passive-aggressive manner since we're in public.

But she said nothing for once, nodding a few times as she reached for her wallet.

I was confused yet again, watching her calmly lay down two crisp one-hundred dollar bills before standing from the table.

She cleared her throat, blinking a few times before she met my stare and said—

"I'll leave you alone now, Liberty."

Her words were weak for once, letting out a deep sigh—one that wasn't out of inconvenience.

But hurt instead.

It made the tears suddenly escape my eyes, turning around as I watched her walk past me.

It was a brief moment of reflection, regretting every word I just said to her.

"Wait, I'm sorry," I suddenly said, sniffling a few times, "I didn't mean it, Mom," I whispered, quickly wiping my tears as I tried to follow her.

But her team had already approached her at the front of the restaurant, flocking around her like annoying fucking birds as she subtly dabbed under her eyes.

It made me more upset, watching as they all exited the restaurant with her.

I was left there, abandoned by her.

It was what I would've wanted hours ago.

But I don't want her to leave.

And I don't understand why—especially after everything she's done.

"Ms. Fierro?" the man by the SUV said, probably instructed by my mother to take me home.

"I don't need a ride," I forced out, letting out a deep shaky sigh as I walked down the sidewalk

I quickly wiped away more of my tears, walking toward the familiar skyscraper a block away.

As I walked, I tried to make myself more presentable, wiping away my tears and focusing on my breathing.

But upon entering the building and stepping on the elevator—I quickly saw a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator wall.

My eyes were bloodshot, my nose tinged red at the tip, and my cheeks flushed.

I knew as soon as she laid eyes on me, she would know.

The elevator ride felt short, ultimately engrossed in my thoughts surrounding everything that just happened at that restaurant.

The soft ding startled me, clasping my shaky hands together as I tried to find some sort of stability.

The lobby was empty.

Even Sienna and Reagan were gone for the night.

But I knew someone still had to be here, especially since this floor was accessible and the lights were still on.

I walked toward the familiar hallway where her office was, trying to gather my thoughts on what I was about to say.

Or how I would explain what happened without crying.

I furrowed my brows when I made it to her office, glancing past the open doorway to the empty room.

Every other room door was shut, hers was the only one left open.

So that means she's here right?

Maybe I should've texted her first.

I hesitantly walked further down the hallway, wondering if everyone had left for the night.

Even her.

And maybe this floor is just monitored by the security downstairs?

But her office door wouldn't be open—

My ears suddenly perked up, hearing the lowered voices just feet away from me.

Further down the hallway, I noticed the open door immediately, the light streaming out.

My brows furrowed deeper, hesitantly walking towards the open door as the voices slowly grew more audible.

"You were away the entire weekend. We're behind schedule now."

The voice was deep, lowered—a man.

"I wasn't available. I made that clear a day in advance," I heard her familiar smooth voice.

Monroe.

"I smoothed out the details over the weekend. The files were emailed this morning," she spoke again, her voice cutting through the silence, "I choose how I handle my work, or I don't work for you at all. Simple."

"We're aware," I heard a different voice, this one was feminine, "But you know the timeline is always tight—"

"Wait," Monroe immediately cut her short at a buzzing sound.

One that I quickly realized was coming from my phone.

Fuck-fuck-fuck.

I quickly reached for my phone tucked into the waistband of my skirt, silencing the call from Kaia.

But I knew it was too late.

And I knew there was no way I would be making it back down that hallway without her knowing.

I stepped forward before I could think it through, stopping at the threshold of the room.

Or conference room.

There was a long glass table—numerous people dressed to the nines as they sat around it.

Monroe was at the head of the table, wearing a white button-down and black dress pants, keeping her leg crossed over the other.

Her brown hair was down in smooth waves, her bangs framing her face and her blue eyes pinned on me.

It one hundred percent felt like I had walked in on something I wasn't meant to be a part of.

Especially with how all of these people were looking at me.

They looked at me blankly, like I was nothing but an interruption.

I felt awkward and out of place—also underdressed, even as I wore a skirt and a nice top.

"Sorry, I-um," I spoke before I could think it through, not having a remotely good excuse.

Especially since it was clear that I had eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Excuse me," Monroe suddenly said, uncrossing her leg and standing from her chair before any of them said anything in response.

She walked toward me, her expression calm, but I could tell by her eyes.

The look they held—she wasn't happy with my interruption.

But I'm more curious about what's going on in this room to care about that.

I remained silent, watching as she walked past me down the hallway.

I followed behind her immediately, knowing that's what she expected.

Her steps were calm, her posture unwavering as we walked silently.

The air was tense around us as I wondered what all of that was back there.

Her heels clicked precisely, walking past the lobby toward the elevator.

Monroe silently clicked the button, immediately making my brows furrow.

"Um hello? Are you not going to explain what that was?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm not," she calmly said, glancing over to meet my stare.

I scoffed, "So you aren't going to explain why you're having a meeting with all those random people?" I said, blinking a few times, "What were you working on this weekend?" I asked, now realizing she wasn't just working on patient files.

This was something else entirely.

Monroe shook her head once, "No, Liberty," was all she said, shutting my questions down entirely.

"Wow whatever, Monroe," I mumbled as the elevator dinged open, but I didn't step on, "This is just what I needed after tonight. Thanks so much."

She paused, her blue eyes trailing her face for a moment.

Until her shoulders loosened slightly.

"Tell me what happened," she suddenly murmured, taking a step toward me.

Her softened voice, the way she looked at me, it felt like she was here with me again.

"Tell me what happened in that conference room," I countered, twisting her words back to her.

"Liberty," Monroe said, her voice lowered between us as she stared into my eyes, "What happened with your mother?"

I clenched my jaw when everything resurfaced.

When that dinner resurfaced, along with the words I said.

How she left.

"I don't want to tell you," I suddenly whispered, glancing away from her when annoying tears burned in my eyes, "Because you won't tell me about this," I whispered weakly.

I quickly wiped my tears away, pursing my lips as I avoided her stare.

She was annoyingly silent, her gaze burning into the side of my face—as if she were waiting for me to say more.

"I'm supposed to tell you everything," I spoke again, shaking my head as I wiped more of my tears away, "But you tell me nothing—even normal stuff that I ask about."

"That was the arrangement that you agreed to, Liberty—"

"Then I want to disagree now," I cut her short, immediately making her draw in a tight breath.

And I knew it was at my sudden interruption.

She hates those.

"You don't want to tell me what this is? Fine, do whatever you want Monroe," I said, suddenly reaching for the elevator button again.

Until she calmly grabbed my wrist, firmly guiding my hand away from the button.

"I'm going to call you an Uber, Liberty," she said, her tone lowered as she took a step toward me, "It's going to take you to my house. You'll be sent a code to put in, and you'll wait for me there."

I felt my interest immediately pique at the idea of going to her house—like maybe she was doing this because of what I just said.

But I didn't want to just see her house.

I wanted to know what was going on in that conference room.

"No."

The word fell from my lips bluntly, refusing to glance away from her stare.

She didn't react.

Her gaze remained calm and unwavering.

"No," she said, emphasizing what I just told her in a way that made my stomach twist.

"Tell me what happened in that conference room, Monroe," I demanded again, eyeing her face for something.

Anything.

There was nothing.

"No," she repeated the word I said, her tone holding clear finality.

I shrugged, officially through with caring about anything.

At least for tonight.

I might regret that later.

"Cool, then I'm not going to your house," I suddenly determined with a fake smile, "And I'm not heading to my apartment either."

"Liberty," she said, and I knew it was a clear warning.

I could tell with how she looked at me—how she said it.

"I'll text you whenever I feel like it," I mumbled, turning away from her as I pressed the elevator button.

She was silent, her gaze burning into me as one of the elevators dinged open.

I went to stop on—until I felt her soft hand wrap around my wrist.

She firmly flipped me back, making my lips part with an inaudible gasp as she tugged me much closer than before.

I unconsciously pressed my hands against her stomach, staring up at her as her scent wrapped around me.

"This is not the game you want to play tonight, Liberty."

Her words were lowered, holding a clear warning as she stared down at me.

I didn't care.

"Try me," I said, my words challenging hers entirely, "Or maybe I'll try you," I retorted, tilting my head further back to level my stare.

It left our faces barely a centimeter apart, our noses nearly grazing as she stared down into my eyes.

"I'm being very patient here, darling," she softly whispered, her eyes trailing my face, "I know tonight was difficult for you, but there aren't any more chances after this."

Her words.... her stare, it made my stomach burn with warmth, contemplating if this was truly what I wanted.

To blow up everything with her too?

"You don't have to self-sabotage here. I can help you, Liberty," she spoke again, her stare holding mine, "I get you, darling."

I drew in a deep breath when she leaned closer, her stare diverting away from my eyes for once as she glanced down—

To my lips.

Everything blurred around me as she gripped my waist, wanting nothing more than for her to kiss me right now.

Even after this stupid fucking conversation.

"I just want you to tell me," I whispered honestly, my tone softening as I annoyingly gave in to her.

Monroe reached up to gently cup my cheek, making me let out a soft sigh that dispersed between us, "It's never that simple," she explained, caressing her thumb against my cheek as her stare remained on my lips, "But I can explain why, darling. Let me get you an Uber, okay?"

I nodded with no further thought, focused on her touch drawing up my back—how her thumb caressed my cheek.

Tingles ran down my spine when she tilted her head slightly, aligning her lips with mine.

Then her words registered.

She's only going to explain it.

She's not going to tell me anything.

Fuck, she got in my head—I let her get in my head.

But now it felt so hard to fight.

The heat, the tension, this urge to lean closer.

I leaned away instead, deciding to reject her kiss just as she'd done mine so long ago.

It was only fucking fair.

"No," I purposely told her, tugging away from her hold as her eyes snapped up to meet mine.

The word echoed in the air like a harsh sting—and I noticed her jaw subtly tighten as I pressed the button and stepped on the open elevator.

"Liberty," she had said, her voice still calm as she rolled her shoulders back, "If you leave, that's it. I'm no longer a patient person."

I smiled innocently, "No," I purposely repeated again.

It wasn't even necessary to say.

I just wanted to say it again and again.

It might just be my new favorite word to tell her.

Monroe pursed her lips tightly together, and for once I could tell she was fighting for her composure.

Especially as the shiny elevator doors slowly rolled closed.

Then her shoulders grew stiffer, her face falling from the neutral expression—

To something darker.

But the view of her was gone as soon as the doors fell shut.

I remained still for a moment, contemplating opening the doors and apologizing.

Especially after the look I just witnessed on her face.

I could... maybe I could let her get me an Uber to her house and tell her everything.

It could all be simple.

But then I thought about how she never tells me anything—not even the smallest of things.

I barely got to learn a little bit about her family and past arrangements.

And still, that's all I really know.

There are details here and there, like how she has culinary training.

Otherwise, I know nothing.

I suddenly clicked the bottom floor, sending the elevator down as I reached for my phone.

I clicked on Kaia's missed call before I could think it through, pressing the cold phone to my ear.

It barely rang three times before the line clicked.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" I spoke before she had a chance, watching the floors decrease on the digital screen.

"Nothing, why?" I heard Kaia ask, "How did everything go with your mom?"

I lazily raised my brows, "Terrible," I mumbled, now thinking how catastrophic this night had turned, "Do you want to go out tonight?"

The line remained silent for a moment.

"Out as in... like out-out?" Kaia clarified, clearly confused by my question, "I thought you were staying in now and doing the sober thing."

"Not tonight," I mumbled, stepping off the elevator when it dinged open, "Besides it's been two weeks. Fuck it."

"Is the Libby I know back?" Kaia asked, sounding excited about the turn of events, "I'll start getting ready now—you can tell me all about what happened during our pre-game."

I nodded immediately, halting my walking by the front doors, "I'll get an Uber to your place if that works?" I asked her.

"Oh yeah, come on over," Kaia insisted, making a smile grow on my lips.

"Okay one sec," I said, immediately lowering the phone to navigate to the Uber app where I briefly handled the necessary steps.

Then my ride was on the way—barely four minutes away from me luckily.

Everything was officially set in stone.

I knew that going out would only make everything worse but I didn't care.

Maybe I wanted it to be worse.