Page 23 of Overruled

I study her then—taking note of the slight slump of her shoulders, shoulders that used to hold me up for piggyback rides.

She was always so much larger than life, and now she looks…

frail. Less of herself. If I could take her away from here, I would, but even if I could somehow fight Alexander and his hold on her, a part of me worries that his hold on her extends further than just a legal document.

Part of me worries she wouldn’t want to leave him, and knowing that might actually break my heart for her.

Even more so than it already does. It’s why I’m too chickenshit to bring it up.

“I don’t want to talk about my nonsense,” she huffs after a moment. “Tell me what’s new with you. Are you seeing anyone?”

My lips part in surprise—not because it’s the first time my mother has ever asked me this, but because it’s the first time I’m not sure how to answer.

I can’t exactly say that the woman I’ve been fucking obsessed with and obsessed with fucking for months might finally be caving to the idea of tolerating me outside of sex.

My pause gives my mother the inch she needs, and she jumps all over it.

“Ezra Hart,” she says with a grin, reaching to smack my knee before setting her teacup on the little table between us. “Are you? Who is she?”

“It’s nothing, Mom.” I clear my throat, looking away from her guiltily. I don’t want to get her hopes up. “Just a casual thing.”

That’s safe, right?

“Casual is far more of an answer than I usually get out of you,” she chuckles. “Tell me about her.”

I know I shouldn’t; telling my mother about Dani only for this entire thing between her and me to implode in a matter of days or weeks as it most likely will is just setting her up for disappointment.

Still, the smile on her mouth is so reminiscent of the old her—the Jackie Hart before the incident and the medications and the entire fucking family falling apart…

it’s enough to have me opening my mouth against my better judgment.

“She works at another firm,” I tell her.

“She’s actually my opposing counsel on the Casiraghi case.

She’s incredibly smart and probably the only person on the planet who takes as much joy as she does in putting me in my place.

Honestly, she’s the only person I don’t mind losing to, as weird as that is. I kind of like it when she’s smug.”

“She sounds like a real keeper,” Mom laughs.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, staring down at the stained wooden deck as I think about Dani’s personality, which reminds me of a feral cat that I can’t stop trying to make like me.

“Dani is…” I shake my head. “She’s something.”

“When can I meet her? You should bring her to dinner sometime.”

My smile dissipates. “I can’t bring her here.”

I don’t mean it to come out as harshly as it does, and I immediately regret my tone the second the words are out. My mother’s happy expression wavers, and I know just from looking at her that she’d almost allowed herself to forget just how fucked up this house is.

“Right,” she answers quietly. “Maybe some other time.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t.” Mom shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“It isn’t yours either,” I urge. “He can’t punish you forever. You shouldn’t be letting him.”

Mom says nothing as she reaches for her cup, staring thoughtfully into her tea for a moment before bringing it to her mouth to sip. She holds it after, staring out over the backyard as she considers this.

“It’s not that simple,” she says finally.

I can’t help the snort that escapes me. “It could be. We could fight him. You know I would do anything I could to—”

“Let it go, Ezra.”

I’m breathing too hard, staring at my mother with my mouth hanging open. “Tell me why.”

“So many reasons,” she sighs. “But mostly…I won’t let my children suffer for me. Not any more than they already have.”

“But—”

Her head turns, her eyes capturing mine, and her smile is sad now, weighted down by years of heartache that I can’t help but feel a little responsible for. “I love you. You know that. But this isn’t a fight you can win. I’m not going to let you put yourself at risk just to try.”

My hands clench the arms of the rocking chair, and I have a strong urge to stand and throw it across the yard. Everything about her situation makes me feel so fucking helpless. I relax my grip instead, reaching to cover her hand with mine and giving it a much gentler squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

I don’t say for what. There’s no point. We both know exactly what I mean. We both know how much there is to be sorry for, and how much neither of us can change it.

I feel her thumb brush against the side of my hand in a slow back-and-forth. “So am I, sweetheart.”

Not for the first time, I ache with a desire for things to be different. For my mother to be happy and whole, for my family not to be so fucked up, for something to go right for a change.

My mind wanders to Dani unwittingly, and part of me wonders if this is why I push her so hard. Do I want her the way I think I do? Or do I just need something that I chose to go the way I chose it for once in my life? They’re questions I don’t have the answers to.

Just like I don’t have a good answer for why I want to see her so badly at this moment.