Page 144 of Dream On

I’m not sure if there’s any coming back from this as I watch the neon heat glowing on her cheeks, in her eyes, infusing every limb.

Stevie whirls around the moment the door shuts behind me. “You.Asshole.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, realizing I need to pull words from my brain. Words that make sense. Words that need to be said out loud and not hidden behind a cell phone screen. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to do anything. You just sat there while your mother tore me to absolute shreds.”

“I’ve had to deal with that my whole life. I’ve learned to block her out. Shut down. That’s how I cope.”

“How you cope?” She’s beet red and fuming. “Well, in the real world—outside your bubble of privilege and superiority—the rest of us cope by telling people like that to fuck off.”

My eyebrows hike up. I’ve never seen her so pissed off, so rageful. She’s shaking from head to toe, tears trailing down her cheeks in inky streaks. “You don’t understand.”

A maniacal laugh. “Of course. It was made very clear tonight that I don’t understand this way of life.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I tent my hands under my chin like a prayer,taking a cautious step forward. “You don’t understand what my upbringing was like. That’s how my mother is, how she’ll always be. You learn to accept it and react accordingly.”

Stevie’s eyes flare with a new wave of anger, disbelief. “That’s your excuse? That we’re all supposed to just accept the damaging repercussions of her actions and words because you’ve learned to live with it?”

I take another step closer, desperate to bridge the growing chasm between us. “It’s not an excuse. It’s the reality I’ve lived with. Speaking my mind would have only made it worse for you, Stevie—I promise you that. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“Intention doesn’t matter, not when the impact is devastating. That’s what matters. My heart. My dignity.” She slams a finger to her chest, her voice trembling, cracking. “I uprooted my life for you, for this ridiculous charade—”

“I’m paying you to be here.”

“I don’t care about the money!” Her arms lift skyward, along with her voice. “Take it all back. Burn it. It doesn’t matter. I’ve lived my whole life without it. What I wanted was respect—a chance to prove myself.” She swallows, lowering her arms at her sides. “Chase my dreams.”

Dreams.

I wish she could see her dreams through my eyes.

My thoughts are blackened, my soul rotted through. But that’s not what she sees. She sees the blue in my eyes, the flash of teeth when my lips curl up with a lie. She sees my so-called dreams playing out in vivid color, while all I see is a gray wash over everything I thought I wanted and everything she craves.

It’s a smoke screen. My best role yet.

And I latch on to the facade because it’s the only thing I’m good at.

Acting.

“Your dreams are going to ruin you,” I rasp out, my own anger heightening. Anger at myself for allowing her to step into this world on my watch. “Look at you. You’re already unraveling. Coming apart at the seams.”

Her face twists. “Don’t.”

“My mother was right about one thing. Sometimes the roles we’re born into are the ones meant for us.”

A tear slides down her cheek, dangling at her jaw. “And I’m just riding your coattails?”

“Yeah.” My eyes glaze over, throat tightening. “That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

I brace myself for the slap. The strike across my cheek, hot and punishing.

I deserve it. I’m ready for it. Give it to me.

My eyes close, my heart pounding with anticipation, every muscle locking up…

But the hit never comes.

When I open my eyes, Stevie is staring at me, her eyes filled with despair, her shoulders slumped with defeat.