Page 78 of Married in Michigan

The drive to the airport is quick and silent, and the flight back to DC is long and even more silent.

The drive home is endless. Because, despite everything, the moment I walk into the foyer of Paxton’s DC condo, I do feel like I’m home.

Paxton is waiting for me.

And he’s pissed.

18

“Why didn’t you tell me, Makayla?” he growls.

I stop short of him; I’m emotionally spent, and his anger is a fierce, forceful, wild thing. “Tell you what, Paxton?”

“About your mom.”

I go into the kitchen, set my bag down, grab a bottle of Pellegrino from the refrigerator. Scratch that—I need something stronger. Pour a whiskey instead, and one for Paxton.

But he waves it off, and stands inches from me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you. I told you I was visiting my mom. I told you she has health issues.”

“She’s in a hospice, Makayla.” He’s really,reallypissed. “You sold things to pay for her care.”

I close my eyes. “John told you?”

“Yes, he did. He thought it was weird and was worried you were playing me.”

“Iamplaying you, Paxton!” I shout. “She’s got advanced MS. I was drowning in bills. I couldn’t keep up, even working three jobs.”

“Why—didn’t—you—tellme?” he bites out, his voice the feral crackle of a predator.

“It’s not your problem.”

“You’re about to marry a man worth millions, into a family worth billions, without a prenup, and you don’t think it pertinent to tell me your mother has a terminal illness?”

“She’s my mother. She’s dying. You can’t do anything. I can’t, no one can.”

“I could have helped.”

I shake my head. I can’t explain it. “Paxton, you don’t understand. She’s all I have.”

“So why not let me help?”

“Because—”

“Because you’re too damn proud and stubborn to ask for help!”

I sink to the floor, finally cracking. Weeping. “She’s my mother,” I sob. “My mom. She worked all day every day, menial petty shitty-ass jobs so I could eat and have shoes and go to school. I dropped out to help her, but she made me go back and graduate.” I snort. “By graduate, I mean get my GED. So I at least have that. Then she got sick and…it was my turn to take care of her. I promised her I’d take care of her.”

“Me helpingistaking care of her.”

I can only shake my head again. “No. No.Ihave to. Me.”

Paxton settles on the floor next to me. “You don’t have to do it alone, Makayla.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”