Page 94 of The Oath We Give

My mother’s voice pierces through my apartment, making Coraline jump. Her eyes widen, mouth falling open.

“Oh, that’s full name. You’re fucked,” Levi laughs as he walks back into the kitchen.

I peer down at Coraline, wrapping a protective arm around her waist, silently letting her know she can fall into me if she needs it. Hesitantly, she places a hand on my bare chest, blinking up at me.

“Ready, wife?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

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TWENTY-ONE

MEET THE HAWTHORNES

CORALINE

I heardonce you don’t decide you’re a good parent, your child decides if you’re a good parent.

I haven’t met Caleb, but if Silas and Levi are any indication, Zoe and Scott Hawthorne are great parents. I’d never been privy to or been a part of a warm family dynamic. My parents did not host family game nights or debrief about what I learned in school.

They were quick to hand me over to caretakers and only pluck me from their golden shelves when I was needed to make their appearance seem more well-rounded.

I was a pawn, a spare token for an image of a happy family.

These people sitting at this table understand and move with one another like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

I’ve never known a home that didn’t feel like scattered eggshells beneath my feet, waiting to cut me open for walking too harshly.

“I’ve been looking for a new hobby for months. These art classes sound perfect. When do you host them?” Zoe grins, taking another sip of her red wine.

“It's mainly for Halo survivors, but next Thursday I’m letting Light host an event where some of the girls I teach will be able to sell their work. If you’d like to come, so they can meet you before you join a class?” I return the smile, before plucking a garlic green bean from my plate.

“Count me in!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Look at that, honey, new hobby for me.”

What does it say about me that I was expecting her to bail once she found out who I taught? When she realized it wasn’t a gossip pool filled with the women of high society, but instead a therapy for girls who’d seen the cruelness of life.

I suppose I’d gotten so used to backhanded retorts and pity stares I didn’t know what a genuine, kind soul looked like.

This entire dinner had shifted my expectations. I thought my job was to hang off Silas’s arm and look pretty. I’d been nervous they’d view me as closed off with my outfit, too hard around the edges, expecting me to be in a dress instead. Speak when spoken to, eat with the correct fork, and never seem anything less than perfect.

But they hadn’t wanted any of that from me.

Despite their intentional concerns, all they wanted was to know me. To know the person their oldest son had chosen to spend his life with. It made my chest burn—I hadn’t expected to feel so guilty for lying to them, but they were so kind, so interested in who I was with genuine intentions, I couldn’t help but hate myself a little for fooling them.

“God help me, I’m still paying for the last hobby,” Scott mutters, elbowing Silas, who is sitting next to him. “Remember when she picked up knitting?”

“I had to wear knitted sweaters to school every single day for six months,” Levi speaks up. “Do you know how itchy that shit was?”

“Language, Levi Vincent!”

“Sorry, Mom,” he mumbles, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth and smiling at her with a boyish grin that tells me he’s used it to get out of plenty of trouble in his lifetime.

I smile, hiding behind my wineglass and watching them exist with one another. Although Silas doesn’t talk much, I can see how comfortable he is with them here. How relaxed his shoulders and facial features appear. A light in his eyes that brightens his face.

Silas’s hand creeps across the table. Without notice of the others, he starts playing with the tips of my hand, rubbing circles around my nails, tracing the pads of my fingers. So casual, like he’s done it a million times before.

“So you like what you do, Coraline?” Scott asks me, my attention zeroing in on him.