Chapter 65
Lauren
Rain sheeted off the porch roof in silver ropes, spattering the steps and darkening the welcome mat to near black.
Judith Barrett stood on the threshold like the weather had arrived specifically to inconvenience her—perfect coat, immaculate hair, expression set against the elements and everything else.
Lauren swallowed. “Judith. Hello.”
Judith didn’t bother with greetings. She swept inside without waiting to be invited, a cold breath of damp air and expensive perfume following her. Raindrops freckled the shoulders of her coat; her heels left faint, wet crescents on the hardwood.
Lauren shut the door. The muted drumming of rain against the roof filled the silence.
Judith took in the living room with one slow, judgmental sweep. Her lips tightened.
“So,” she said. “This is where you’ve been hiding.”
Lauren folded her arms—not defensive. Contained. “This is where I live.”
Judith turned sharply. “Thomas missed Thursday night dinner this week. Again.”
Lauren blinked.
“I came,” Judith continued, voice sharpening, “because I want to hear from you why he’s suddenly neglecting his obligations.”
Lauren stared at her. “I have no idea.”
“I know my son.” Judith stepped closer, rain still clinging to the edges of her sleeve. “He’s… pliable. Impressionable. Someone is clearly encouraging this behavior.”
Anger flared in Lauren’s chest—but her voice came out steady. “Don’t talk about Tom like that. He’s not pliable. He’s not weak.”
Judith blinked, surprised.
“And I’m not manipulating him. My husband is making his own decisions.”
Judith let out a brittle, humorless laugh. “Thomas doesn’t make decisions. He follows. And right now, he’s following you.”
Lauren almost laughed. The man she’d seen lately—the one fighting for his marriage—wasn’t weak at all. He was strong in ways Judith would never understand. She shook her head. “That isn’t what’s happening.”
Judith’s eyes flashed. “He said he’s prioritizing you.”
Lauren’s breath caught. “He said that?”
“Yes,” Judith snapped. “As if you are more important than his family.”
“I am his family,” Lauren said.
Judith’s gaze flicked over Lauren, sharp as glass. She stepped forward. “Whatever influence you have over him ends now. Thomas has responsibilities. A career. A reputation to maintain.”
Lauren met her eyes and looked, really looked—past the superiority to the thin edge of fear underneath. “Judith,” she said, soft and sure, “Tom is a grown man. He gets to choose what matters to him.”
Judith’s nostrils flared. “And that’s you?”
Lauren hesitated. “I believe,” she said slowly, honestly, “Tom is choosing the life he wants. And the kind of man he wants to be.”
“That’s absurd,” Judith hissed. “Tom has put up with you for long enough. You’ve never been good enough for him. He certainly never thought you were.”
The words should have gutted her. Instead, they sounded outdated—like a script Judith had been reading from for years.
The sting landed—and then dissolved. Rain gathered, slid in clean lines down the windowpane.
“Maybe,” Lauren said gently, “he sees things differently now.”
Lauren saw Judith’s composure falter. She looked suddenly, painfully human. “Please don’t take him away from me.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. “Judith, I’m not taking him anywhere.”
“I don’t want to lose my son.” She bit out.
Lauren shook her head slowly. “I’m not competing with you. I’m not trying to replace you.” She paused. “That’s not how family works, Judith.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Judith admitted, voice thinner than Lauren had ever heard it. “My son is giving me ultimatums. My friends—women I’ve known for twenty years—are calling me asking if I can introduce them to you.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Judith let out a brittle, disbelieving laugh. “Apparently you’re sought after. They’ve seen your Muse features. The Stockist display.”
Lauren didn’t know what to say. Judith sighed and turned toward the door.
Lauren didn’t stop her. At the threshold, Judith said. “Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“I…” she paused without turning around. “I am… sorry for how I’ve treated you.” Then she stepped into the rain, shoulders hitching the smallest bit.
Lauren shut the door, heart pounding, breath shaking. She wasn’t afraid of Judith Barrett. Not anymore. Not even a little.
The rain whispered down the windows. Lauren leaned back against the door, eyes closing.
He’s prioritizing you.
The words replayed in her mind, slow and warm, like a secret she’d been starving for.
Her husband. Tom. Prioritizing her.