Page 7 of The Billionaire’s Betrayal (Billionaires of Paris #2)

TRISTAN

When my mother took my arm and led me toward the rose garden, I knew she wanted to talk in private.

I dreaded our conversations; they always left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I loved my mother. And even though she had become a resentful woman, I still remembered the caring, loving mother she used to be.

Life had scarred her deeply. Her marriage existed only on paper now, and her dreams lay shattered at her feet.

Everything had changed when I was twelve, when she discovered my father’s infidelity.

But their marriage had started to wither long before that, drowned in years of silence and unspoken words.

Over time, she had sunk into a depression she no longer seemed willing to escape.

Now, the only things keeping her afloat were her social status and high-society gatherings.

“Your girlfriend is a harpy,” she said acidly.

“Mom, I don’t want to have this conversation with you,” I replied, my patience firm but steady. “I regret that she hurt you, but Eva is the woman I love, whether you like it or not.”

“Love is just an illusion,” she said tiredly. “You’re still young, full of ideals, but time will change all that.”

“Mom...”

“Let me finish. It starts off sweet and intoxicating. Then, things shift imperceptibly. What once made you smile becomes mundane. The little quirks you found charming start to annoy you. Then the arguments pile up, the harsh words leave scars, and resentment settles in. Betrayal usually follows, though not always in the way you expect. Sometimes, it’s just a lack of attention, a failure to listen, broken promises.

Those silent betrayals eat away at your heart. ”

She paused, her gaze lost in the roses.

“I didn’t realize your father and I had drifted apart, that our dreams had changed, that we no longer looked in the same direction. Sometimes, I wonder if we should have separated before love turned into poison.”

Her words chilled me.

For the first time, I found myself questioning the trajectory of my relationship with Eva.

It was true, we had been fighting more lately.

Work stress made us less patient, less willing to compromise.

Our schedules were falling out of sync. On weekends, when she was eager to explore the city, I just wanted a quiet break after a grueling week.

And then there was the tension between my mother and her.

Eva expected me to take her side, but how could she ask me to choose?

I refused to. How could I explain that, despite her flaws, my mother was still my mother?

That I couldn’t just erase years of love and loyalty to soothe Eva’s wounded pride?

Each day, this impossible situation weighed on me more and more, widening an invisible gap between us.

And what about her attitude toward Audrey? Sometimes, I barely recognized her. The woman who had always been so rational and kind now seemed consumed by raw, uncontrollable emotions. After all these years together, how could she still be blinded by insecurity and unfounded jealousy?

These thoughts left a bitter taste in my mouth, darkening my mood. I had been looking forward to this weekend with her. But for the first time since we had met, I felt like I was suffocating.