Chapter 37 #2
I opted for alerts from all the trashy tabloids for one reason: I wanted to get ahead of anything my mom might see. And this one wasn’t great. Page Six was uncovering new details to show that my dad hadn’t stopped seeing the other woman.
Great.
Seconds later, three texts came in.
Ishani: James is in Manhattan with his father tonight, I’ll have them check in on her.
Ishani: Don’t worry.
Ishani: Enjoy your night, we have it handled.
“Are you okay?” Malena’s voice yanked me back to the present, and then she was tucked closer to my side, eyes running over the headline.
“Yeah.” I clicked the screen off and tried not to let it bother me. I finally had Malena on a date, I wasn’t going to ruin it. “Looks like the press knew where they were going this time.” Concern etched over her flawless face. I sighed. “I only read them so I know if it’s something—”
“That your mom will see.”
“Yeah…” I huffed. And this one was bad.
Usually, right before Thanksgiving, whatever fighting my mom and dad had going on would evaporate and we’d all be forced to endure a “happy” family dinner. That was going to be tough now, seeing as we were all being reminded that my father was absolute garbage.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” I said quickly, trying to salvage the mood, but Malena’s encouraging smile pulled at my restraint. “I wish she would just…”
“Leave him for good?” Malena looped her arm around mine.
I nodded.
“I’m sure it’s not simple to walk away from her whole life.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Your mom deserves better, but better can be complicated.”
I hadn’t realized till that moment just how unfair I was being to my mom.
I hated how my dad treated her, but that didn’t mean I had a right to judge her for how she handled it.
But watching the same scene play out year after year didn’t make it any easier to digest. “I was hoping she’d leave him and we’d do Thanksgiving in Newport this year. My mom hates the city.”
“The beach in the autumn sounds nice.”
“It is.” I thought about all the time we’d spent there, summers at the house where I learned to swim. The one place I looked forward to going every year. “She loved it there, really let her worries fall away. It was where I first started rowing.”
“Loved.” Of course Malena noted my use of the past tense. We were here because she caught all the details. “What happened?”
“She still loves it there.” I shrugged at the banality of the story—it was practically a cliché.
But once again, the encouraging look on Mal’s face pushed me forward.
“I was seven when we went there for an impromptu beach trip. Turns out, my dad’s mistress had been there all summer since we were supposed to be in St. Barts. So…”
That day was imprinted in my memory. The salty smell of the ocean whipping through the kitchen. The broken glass all over the floor. My mom dropped the lemonade she made for me when my dad’s mistress at the time came down the steps, calling for him.
I’d been sitting at the kitchen counter, completely unaware of what this strange woman’s presence meant. But a part of my mom—the one that was bright and vivacious—vanished that day. And I hadn’t seen it since.
“Con…” Malena sat up and weaved her fingers back through mine. “I’m sorry.”
At least now he was open about it. He wasn’t actively trying to hide how terrible he was. That had always been the worst part: when he lied and played pretend that he was a good guy. There was no denying who he was anymore.
“He has everything, but nothing is good enough.” I stared into the crackling fire.
I’d spent the following ten years watching my brothers become him in every way and be praised for it.
Falling in line felt like betraying my mom and I’d rather be the ne’er-do-well Hastings than a replica of my father. “My brothers are just like him.”
“You’re not,” Malena stated, so quickly it sounded like reflex.
The words resonated through my chest. “I…”
Sometimes I wondered about that woman—the mistress, the first one I ever clocked anyway.
Now, thinking back to that day, I couldn’t help feeling bad for her.
My mom had to be the humiliated and betrayed spouse, but she was the dirty little secret.
She didn’t even get the dignity of existing in reality.
“You’re not like that in the slightest,” she repeated firmly, turning my chin to look her in the eye. Behind a cocked brow that told me she was not going to entertain an argument, was protectiveness. “I have tons of proof, so don’t argue with me.”
Her unfettered belief in me clogged the back of my throat.
I didn’t allow myself ambition because I knew what it led to. I was fine fading into the background if it meant avoiding that. But Malena refused to let me go unnoticed. Seeing every part of me, she made me want more.
“Careful, Mal…” I brushed a kiss against her hair. “You’ve got me motivated.”
She looked up at me, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “I’ll start to feel worried when you buy climbing equipment.”