Chapter 63
“What are you doing here?” she asks, blinking. Her hair is tied up in her sleep bonnet, and she’s wearing her robe and nightgown, everything made of lustrous silk in bright colors.
I yank my hand from Rook’s, whipping it behind my back. “I thought you were out for dinner. Isn’t it your supper club night?”
Her mouth flattens. I basically just admitted I was avoiding her.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so your father went without me. I woke up and heard voices.” She presses a hand to her chest. “You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”
I open my mouth to answer as her gaze slides to Rook, judgment written into every line of her moisturized face.
“Is this . . . the Solitude? You brought him here? To our home?” Her eyes widen. “Wait, are you in trouble? Is he forcing you to do something?”
She steps away, backing out of the room. “I’ll call the Patrol.”
“Mom, no!” I say, moving closer with my hands out like I’m trying to calm a wild animal. “I brought him here. He’s not doing anything wrong.”
She grips the doorframe, looking between us before glancing at our hands, which she definitely saw us holding. “Why are you with him?”
“His name is Rook.”
“I don’t care what his name is,” she spits. “I ordered you to stay away from him. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Your message?” I ask, unable to believe my ears. “Your message? I don’t know, Mom, maybe I missed it while sending you hundreds of messages you didn’t bother answering!”
“What did you expect?” she cries. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to act like my mother!”
She shakes her head and lays a hand on her throat. Tears form in her eyes, and I squint because it’s then that I notice the faintest hint of bruising on her skin.
“What did he do?” I ask, my voice dropping low. “Did he hurt you?”
I’m moving closer now, my mother backing into the hall.
“What did you expect him to do, Poet? Did you think all your little stunts would go unpunished? He couldn’t reach you, so he opted for the closest thing. If he found out I’d been talking to you—”
My shoulders drop, sharp needles exploding in my stomach. She took the brunt of his wrath for me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” she says firmly. “I know this was not the intended outcome when you set out on all this.” She waves a hand up and down.
“But you need to understand that you have ruined everything. Your father had to scramble to find a successor, and Trey and Molly are no longer speaking to us. They’re trying to establish their own pick as scion while your father’s power slips away. ”
As she lays out the entire picture for me, nausea creeps up my throat. Knox told me everything was okay, but that was weeks ago, and things have clearly progressed. I knew choosing Aria would have consequences, but I never really understood how far my actions would spread.
We both fall silent before my mother asks, “Poet, what are you doing here? If your father had been home . . .” Her gaze darts to Rook. “You would both be in more trouble than you can possibly imagine.”
“I needed something,” I say, picking up the lie I’d already prepared. “A sweater I forgot.”
“You came back here for a sweater?”
I nod. “I needed it.”
She eyes me with a wary look, and I’m pretty sure she knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t press it.
Her gaze slides over me. “Fine, did you get what you needed?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you should both go.”
She steps aside and waits. I share a glance with Rook and gesture him toward the hall.
“You go ahead,” I say. He nods and then walks up to my mother, stops, and looks her up and down. He’s made no secret of how little he respects my parents, but he stares at the bruise on my mother’s throat, and I note the contrast of his softening eyes and the tightness around his mouth.
“If a man ever laid a hand on your daughter, I’d kill him,” he says, and my mother blinks, her mouth falling open. No one has ever spoken to her like that. Rook cocks his head. “I still might.”
She stares up at him, her lower lip trembling, before Rook turns and heads down the hall.
“Mom,” I say. “I would have told you I was coming, but—”
Slowly, she turns to look at me. “But I wasn’t answering your messages. I understand.”
I stand before her, my mouth opening and closing. I have so many things to say, but they sit in a tight knot lodged at the base of my spine, impossible to unravel.
“You should go,” she says.
“That’s it?” I ask. “We’re just finished forever?”
Finally, she meets my eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Poet. You made a choice, and now we must all live with that.”
I’m about to tell her I’m sorry again, but I understand there’s no point. All the apologies in the world won’t change the facts.
My heart splinters into pieces as I look at her, maybe for the last time.
“Okay.” I’m turning to leave when she calls after me.
“How’s the cadet program?” she asks. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?”
I exhale a shaky breath. “Yeah, Mom. It’s amazing. I made it to second year. I had the third-fastest time in our final exam.”
She nods, a hint of pride straightening her shoulders. “Of course you did. I had no doubt about that.”
I hesitate again, sensing Rook standing by the door, waiting for me, witnessing this pain and ugliness between me and the one person in the world whose job it was to protect me.
Her gaze lands on my throat and the mask dangling from the chain around my neck. She reaches out and snags it between her fingers.
“Do you know why I got you this?” she says.
I shake my head. “I always assumed it was a metaphor. Something for me to hide behind.”
“No,” she says, her forehead crumpling. “It was a reminder to never be like me. I’m the one who hid, but you were always so brave. So determined. And look at you now. Your own person, making your own decisions.”
She sighs and releases her hold, her hand dropping at her side.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “If we’d listened to you, then maybe—”
She shakes her head, and I rush to throw my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She returns my embrace as we both start crying.
“I love you, Mom,” I say, pulling away. “Dad made it really hard, but I want you to know that I do love you.”
She reaches out and cups my cheek, closing her eyes as a tear slips from the corner. “You have no idea just how much I love you, my baby girl. I’ll regret every day we’re apart. I’m not sure if you believe that, but it’s true.”
“Maybe this isn’t goodbye forever,” I say. “Maybe just for now.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Now go. Please. I don’t want him to see you.”
Her gaze moves past me to Rook, and I can’t quite interpret what I see in her face. Perhaps a begrudging respect. Maybe a bit of relief.
“Take care of yourself,” she says to me. “And hold on to anyone willing to fight for you, my girl.”
My throat is too tight to speak, so I turn away.
Rook and I enter the elevator and ride down in silence, the glowing numbers reversing their course as we make the descent. We reach the bottom and slip out the service entrance and into the brightly lit streets.
It’s several minutes before Rook asks, “Are you okay?”
I exhale a shaky breath. It feels like I’ve left my body, floating through the clouds, frothing over the sky. “I don’t know.”
He accepts that answer because he understands it.
“Thank you,” I say. “For defending me. No one’s ever done that before.”
He peers over with what I can only describe as a scrutinizing look. “I already told you, I’m here to protect you, no matter what.”