Chapter Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Seven
Tristan
My mom gives me a hurt look, and I wish I could say it doesn’t make me want to tell her it’s fine, that I’m glad to see her.
But it does, and I have to resist the urge to placate her.
“Baby boy, I come all this way, and that’s what you have to say to me?” She lets out a small little laugh that takes me right back to being ten years old. “Who’s this?”
She juts her chin at Michelle, giving her a smile that’s more like bared teeth.
“Hi, I’m Michelle,” my girlfriend introduces herself, warm as ever. I want to bat away her outstretched hand, to keep her from this woman who’s only ever made me feel worse.
“I’m Tristan’s mom, Elise,” she gushes, and I know her well enough to know it’s fake. “It must not be very serious, since he didn’t tell me about it the last time we talked.”
I go very, very, still, blood starting to roar in my ears. “When was the last time we talked, Mother?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Gold,” Michelle says simultaneously.
“Oh, it’s not Ms. Gold anymore, Megan.”
“Michelle,” I correct, my stomach churning. “Her name is Michelle.”
My mother fixes me with her hazel eyes, same as the ones I see in the mirror every day. “Then I guess we both got our names wrong. How funny.” A stilted laugh comes out of her, and the sound is loud in the hush that’s suddenly fallen over the room.
“Right. Funny,” I echo, my tone making it clear that it’s not. I should have taken her off the list of approved family and friends years ago.
I never thought she’d bother showing up.
“I thought it would be fun to take your new stepdad to one of your games, Tristan. I’m just so proud of you.
Well, I would have been a lot prouder if you hadn’t messed up so bad at the end, but we still managed to have good time in spite of that.
” Another little laugh. “I did tell him you were always making mistakes, so I’m sure he knew to be ready for the worst.”
A lean man steps up, a hand extended. My mother practically gushes as she introduces him.
I don’t retain a word she says; I just stare at the two of them, my rib hurting, and Michelle’s clear discomfort only making me angrier.
“Why did you come here?” I ask again, and my mom finally manages to see that I’m not about to play nice.
She takes a step back, tucking a lock of hair that looks so much like mine behind her ear.
“I just told you—”
“No, I want the truth. You haven’t come to a single one of my games since you asked out my high school coach.”
Michelle flinches, and I guess I forgot to share that tidbit of history with her.
Well, no time like the present for it all to come out.
“Murph has a business venture he thought you’d like to invest in.” Her hands flutter nervously in front of her, little fragile things. “We know how much you get paid, and how I taught you to be generous, and it’s a really great idea.”
“How much?” I spit out.
It shouldn’t hurt. She’s come here for money, because of course she hasn’t changed.
It hurts anyway.
“Oh, you know, mid–five figures as an entry point,” her new husband says, grinning at me like I’m just going to hand him cash.
“No,” I tell him.
“I see you’re going to be a discerning investor,” Murph, or whatever his name was, tells me, still grinning. “The more you put in up front, the more stake we can give you in the business.”
“I’m not giving either one of you money. I’d like you to leave.”
I start to move, just wanting to get away, to sit down, but my mom throws out her arms, and I flinch back, not wanting her to hit my tender rib.
“You never could see a good thing when it was right in front of you.” My mom juts out her chin, a familiar angry slant to her eyes.
“Stubborn and good for nothing, just like your father. Couldn’t even make it through college that I paid for.
As if you could even front the money. I’m sure you’ve spent it all on something stupid, just like he would. ”
The barb is delivered in a quiet, angry tone.
“He told you to leave,” Michelle’s voice rings out. “You need to go.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Who do you think you are?” my mother starts, but Michelle takes a step forward, her shoulders back, fury radiating from every inch of her.
“No.” Michelle shakes her head. “You do not get to do this. He played with a fractured rib. He let one ball in. One. You don’t get to come here and belittle him.
He’s not stupid, and he’s nothing like what you just said.
Tristan is an incredible player, and despite whatever you did to him when he was a kid, he’s an even more incredible man. Leave.”
My mouth opens, closes, because my brain is at war, one part telling me to defend myself, the other part so damn relieved that Michelle is doing it for me.
That she cares enough to say the things I’ve wanted to say to my mother for half of my life.
“Elise, come on,” her new husband says, tugging at my mother’s elbow.
For one miserable moment, I think my mother is going to argue, but she simply sneers at us both, her bottom lip wobbling like she’s going to cry, like she’s the victim.
The whole team watches the two of them walk out.
“I’ll take her off the list of family and friends,” Michelle says quietly.
I nod.
Djimon’s family surrounds me, a sea of worried faces. “You’re coming to our house for the holidays,” his mom tells me. “You are always welcome.”
“She’s going to adopt you if you aren’t careful,” Djimon tells me.
“Michelle was right,” Logan adds. “You were fucking amazing out there. You better heal up fast, you huge bastard. We need you.”
“Language,” someone yells—his dad, I think—but Logan just grins at me. “You can come to our holidays, too.”
“Hey,” Djimon protests.
“Michelle, you were downright scary,” Connor tells her. “Good work.”
He’s right. She was.
I pull her into a hug, ignoring our audience as the conversation resumes, more quietly than before.
“Thank you,” I murmur in her ear. I kiss the skin beneath it, pleased to see goose bumps pebble across her skin at my simple gesture.
She looks up at me, her warm brown gaze flitting over my face, like she’s checking me for some invisible injury.
“I love you,” she says. “No one gets to talk to you like that when I’m around.”
Shock stops my breath for a moment, and even the pain of the deep inhalation I take barely registers.
Shock turns into laughter, because for someone who has just said she loves me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this pissed off.
“I love you, too,” I tell her, and then I give a small, painful laugh as she frowns even harder.
“Don’t say it back just because I’m mad on your behalf.” She tries to cross her arm over her chest, but with the other one wrapped around me, she just stares down at them both awkwardly before giving up with a sigh.
She’s so damned cute.
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms gingerly around her.
“I’m saying it because I’ve known for months now that you are the only one for me. I love you, Sweet Cheeks.”
The room erupts into chaotic applause, and I kiss her soundly on the lips.
I may not have won the game today, but having Michelle admit how she feels about me? It’s better than any trophy.
“Does this mean you’re gonna keep her?” Connor yells.
Half the room groans, the other half laughing.
When I finally pull away from her, she’s blushing to the roots of her dark brown hair and all the more beautiful for it.
“Oh, I’m gonna keep her,” I agree loudly.
Her answering smile is everything.