Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Halsey
Just as I’m about to unbuckle my seat belt, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I should’ve left it in airplane mode for another hour—or six. I pull it out and glance at the screen, frowning. Mom. Of course.
With a sigh, I answer. “Hey, Mom.”
“Halsey, where have you been? I’ve been calling you all day.” Her voice is sharp, slicing through the static from the plane’s engine with the same precision she uses to cut through my patience. “I called your job, and they said you no longer work there. Is that true?”
I feel my stomach twist. Great. A glitch in the plan—my parents.
They’re not going to take this well, especially not my mom.
Worse, now that I’m closer to San Francisco, they’ll expect me to visit more often, drop by for those painfully long dinners filled with barely concealed judgment and passive-aggressive remarks. Why didn’t I think of this before?
“I’ve been busy,” I say, glancing at Dustin. He’s watching me now, curiosity flickering in his eyes as I stand and follow him toward the exit. “Things are pretty hectic. You can’t expect me to be available at all times.”
I deliberately skip over the part where I quit my job.
When she finds out, things are going to get painfully interesting, and I’m in no rush to dive into that particular disaster.
It’s not like she’ll take it well. In my parents’ world, quitting without a solid, bulletproof plan isn’t just irresponsible—it’s practically a cardinal sin.
And if they find out it was to help Santos and Dustin .
. . Well, I’m not ready for that specific drama. Nope.
“I don’t care how busy you are,” she snaps. “This is important.”
I already know what’s coming. I’ve known my mother long enough to anticipate the shift in her tone, the way her voice softens just before she drops some obligation on me, like a beautifully wrapped bomb.
But I ask anyway, knowing I won’t like the answer.
“What’s so important that you almost called the National Guard because you couldn’t find me, Mom? ”
Her voice changes, adopting that sweetness that always comes before she manipulates me into something.
“Your sister got engaged. You’d know if you were on social media,” she adds with that condescending tone I know all too well.
“In any case, we’re having a party this weekend. You need to be there.”
I stop dead in my tracks, mid-step, causing Dustin to nearly bump into me. What? I blink, trying to process her words. “Wait— Brielle got engaged?”
“Yes, Kensington proposed. You remember him, don’t you?” Her tone turns acidic, sharp enough to leave a sting. “If only you and Carson hadn’t broken up . . . you would’ve been first. He was such a great man. Rich, too.”
Of course, it comes back to Carson. Everything always does with her.
My jaw tightens, my hand gripping the phone a little too hard.
I force myself to respond, even though the sarcasm is impossible to hide.
“Wow, what a joy. Brielle must be over the moon. Congratulate her for me, since, you know . . . I don’t have social media to do so. ”
I could call Brielle myself. But I won’t.
She and I . . . we’ve been distant ever since we left Blissful Meadows.
Our relationship cracked after everything that happened, fractured in ways that never healed.
At first, she blamed me for ruining her life, for forcing our family to move away from the little town she loved.
But when she found out the real reason why we left, why I was sent to that Catholic boarding school, everything shattered.
In her eyes, I became tainted—nothing but a disgrace, a slut.
Slut-shaming became her favorite thing, her weapon of choice whenever I’m around. And I learned not to engage, not to defend myself. What’s the point? It’s easier to let her live in her carefully curated version of reality, where I’m some villain and she’s the victim.
Where she gets to look down on me from her perfect pedestal, judging me for mistakes she’ll never understand.
Nothing was a mistake. Loving is never a mistake.
Being a part of the Laheys isn’t a mistake either, I didn’t choose to be a part of such a judgmental family.
Of course, I do choose to stay away from their toxicity.
My mother’s voice drags me back to the present. “Halsey, are you listening? This party is important to your sister. Don’t make this about you.”
I clench my jaw, biting back the words I want to throw at her. Of course it’s not about me. It never is. It’s always about Brielle, the golden child, the one who could do no wrong. The one who never got her life ripped apart the way mine was.
“Halsey, are you paying attention? The party is this weekend,” she continues, her voice already carrying the expectation that I’ll drop everything and go. “We expect you to be there. It’s the least you can do for your sister, considering how little you’ve been around lately.”
“I’ll see if I can make it,” I say, my voice flat and emotionless.
“That’s not an answer,” my mom snaps.
“It’s the only one I’ve got right now, Mom.” I’m so close to hanging up, but something inside me tightens, and I add, “I have a very important case. Classified, actually. I can’t discuss it, so no, I don’t know if I can make it, and I won’t be reachable to you or anyone.”
Before she can get another word in, I end the call and shove my phone deep into my purse like I’m trying to bury the conversation with it.
Dustin is waiting for me at the bottom of the plane’s staircase, his hand extended to help me down. “Everything okay?” he asks, his tone cautious, like he already knows the answer.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Just Mom being . . . well, Mom.”
He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. He doesn’t need to. He’s known my family long enough to understand exactly what my mom’s like—how she can drive me to the edge without even trying. There’s nothing to discuss, no point in rehashing the same old story.
I shake my head, forcing a smile I don’t really feel. “Come on,” I say, motioning toward the car waiting for us. “Let’s just go. We have to check on Santos and I have to discuss his case with Dr. Aldridge before he heads back to Baker’s Creek.”
As we walk to the car waiting for us, I feel a strange mixture of relief and dread settling into my bones.
Quitting my job felt like closing a chapter, like breaking free from something that was holding me back.
But no matter how far I run, my past always finds a way of catching up.
My family, Brielle’s engagement, my mom’s endless expectations—it’s like I’m forever tangled in a web I can’t escape.
I can already hear her voice in my head, demanding that I take a few days off to “support my sister.” She’ll go on and on about how much more responsible Brielle is—how she always did what they asked without question.
Mom wanted her to become a chef, and she did.
Mom wanted her to start a cooking blog, and she did.
Mom wanted her to marry a rich guy and .
. . well, looks like Brielle’s checking that box, too.
And then she’ll turn to me. She’ll ask when I’ll find a “nice guy” or why I can’t just go back to Carson.
She’ll tell me I’m getting too old to be single, that my eggs are probably drying up, and what am I going to do with my life if I end up childless and alone?
She’ll ask me, again, why I can’t be the daughter they tried to raise and not . . . me.
The phone vibrates again, and I can’t help but groan as I see my mom’s name flash across the screen. Of course, I press the answer button before I can talk myself out of it.
“Mom, I’m busy. You need to respect my time.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she cuts in, her voice dripping with that familiar condescension.
“You never do anything we ask. All we ever wanted was for you to be part of this family, to do the small things. You can’t even manage that.
This should’ve been your engagement party, but no—you had to go and ruin things with Carson.
What happened there, Halsey? He was perfect for you.
Reliable. Successful. But, of course, you didn’t appreciate him, did you? You never appreciate the good things.”
I feel my heart pounding in my chest, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. But I don’t let it spill over—not here, not now. “Mom, this isn’t about Carson. I’ll try to make it to the party, okay? But I can’t promise anything.”
“You will be there, Halsey. You owe it to your sister after all she’s done for you. Do you understand?”
Something inside me snaps. “What has she ever done for me?” I bite back, my voice sharper than I intended.
“She sacrificed everything because you failed us. Remember when you were whoring around with those boys?” Her words are like venom, each one hitting me like a slap. “We moved because of you. We had to hide your shame.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” I shout back, my voice trembling with barely contained rage.
“We forgave you, but we will never forget it,” she spits with the same cruel tone she’s used ever since I was sixteen.
“That’s why you’re still single. No one wants a woman like you.
Men know what you are. Maybe you should’ve kept your legs closed until marriage.
But you’re running out of time, Halsey. You’re not getting any younger.
When are you going to settle down? When are you going to be the daughter we raised, not this . . . this disappointment?”
My hands are shaking now, the phone gripped so tightly I’m afraid it might shatter. “If you wanted me to be happy,” I seethe, “you wouldn’t be vicious every time I don’t do what you want. You wouldn’t have taken me away from them.”
“Halsey—” Dustin’s voice cuts through my fury as he gently takes the phone from my hand. I’m too stunned, too rattled, to stop him.
He brings the phone to his ear and, in a calm voice, says, “Mrs. Lahey, stop being so goddamn awful and hurtful. If you have nothing decent to say to Halsey, do us both a favor and don’t call her again.
Have the day you deserve.” And with that, he hangs up, handing me the phone as if nothing just happened.
I stare at him, panic surging through me. “Why did you say that to my mother?”
“She deserved it,” he replies, his voice steady, as if what he did was perfectly normal.
“I . . .” I falter, words escaping me. Because sometimes, I really don’t know what she deserves. All I know is that I’m tired—tired of fighting the same battles, tired of listening to the same old lectures, tired of being a failure in her eyes.
They’ll never see how they broke me, how they tore me apart when they ripped me away from home.
Santos and Dustin were my home. We might’ve been too young, but we loved each other.
There were so many ways they could’ve stopped us from making mistakes, but the way they handled everything was wrong.
It was tragic, and they’ll never understand that.
I used to hold on to the hope that someday, somehow, we could mend our family. But now? Now I know that will never happen. They’ll never forget, and I’ll never forgive them.
And that’s the real tragedy.