Chapter 15
ELLORA
The Uber driver weaved through the Sunday morning traffic without saying a word.
I was thankful for his silence and his focus on getting me home.
The morning afterglow clung to me like a warm fog when I thought about Holden’s laugh, his hands, and the way he’d looked at me like I was something rare and shining, but then Bree’s message replayed in my head and the fog burned off fast.
Hey, sorry to bother you. Your mom’s having a rough morning. You might want to check in.
Guilt slammed into me all over again, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. What was I doing?
Staying out all night and getting wrapped up in some fantasy with a man I barely knew while my mother—my sweet, confused, unpredictable mother—was home, needing me to be there with her.
I twisted my hands in my lap as block after block flew by outside. Mercifully, the traffic was light, but every red traffic light we hit felt like a punishment.
I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have stayed over. I should’ve known better. Hell, I did know better. I even told Bree I wouldn’t be home late.
The guilt was so intense that it felt like it was choking me, sucking all the oxygen straight out of my lungs. What the hell was I thinking last night?
That was the thing, though. I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been acting purely on instinct, driven by my need for a man I shouldn’t even have been out with at all.
I bet most girls don’t even think about the way Cinderella might’ve felt when she was fleeing the ball after that damn clock struck. We all wanted to be a princess for a night, but no one thought about the consequences. The complications. The emotions.
Getting a taste of that and then having reality crash back in was worse than never having felt it at all. At least, that was how I felt about this morning.
Holden really had made me feel a princess, a wanted, sexy, kickass businesswomen of a princess who could have it all. Then that text had come through and now I was left to wonder if it’d been worth it.
Because that wasn’t my life and it never would be.
By the time we finally pulled up in front of my building, I tossed the driver a tip and practically ran up the stairs. Guilt, remorse, and regret chewed a hole through my soul as I went. Bree opened the door as soon as I slid the key into the lock.
“Hey, she’s okay now,” she said, the words pouring out of her in a rush. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. She just kept asking where you were and if you were taking her to the beach. I thought maybe if she saw you—”
“It’s fine,” I said, walking past her into the apartment as she stepped aside. My heart was still hammering, tears burning in my eyes. “I shouldn’t have stayed out all night and I definitely shouldn’t have been out all morning as well. I’m the one who’s sorry. Where is she?”
“In the kitchen.” Bree reached out and touched my shoulder as she followed after me, the gentle touch stopping me in my tracks.
When I turned to face her, she gave me an understanding smile, those blue eyes as patient and kind as always.
“It’s okay, Ellora. You really don’t have anything to be sorry about.
It’s okay to still have a life, you know?
She’d want that for you, even in her worst moments. ”
The tears brimmed in my eyes then, no longer simply burning the backs but welling on my eyelids. “She sacrificed so much for me and she’s always been there when I needed her. I shouldn’t just have left her.”
Bree shook her head. “Going out isn’t the same as abandoning her, girl. I was right here. We just had a bit of a rough patch.”
“Yeah.” I inhaled deeply and swiped my fingers under my eyes, taking a moment to compose myself before I headed into the kitchen.
Mom was at the counter, her silver-streaked hair sticking up in every direction. She was wearing one of my old T-shirts and eating cereal like it was the best meal she’d ever had, picking at pieces of a fruit salad in between.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said, bright as day now, like she hadn’t ever been confused at all.
Her gaze ran over me and I realized at the same time she did that I was wearing a fancy ballgown in the middle of the morning.
My cheeks flushed, but she smirked a little. “I’m assuming you had a good night.”
“It was a great night.” I sagged against the counter, relief and guilt tangling in my chest until I didn’t know which was which. “How are you feeling?”
“Me?” She frowned. “I’m fine. Why?”
“No reason.” I forced a smile and straightened up, blowing out a deep breath. I felt my heartrate calm down. “I’m going to get changed. Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?”
“Of course.” She scoffed and waved me off before she smirked again. “Best to wash your face, darling. You’re still wearing the makeup from last night.”
I groaned but let out a quiet giggle that was part embarrassment, part relief. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
She winked at me, going back to her cereal like it was just a normal morning. Meanwhile, I felt like I’d run an emotional marathon.
“See?” Bree said softly beside me as I left the kitchen. “She’s doing much better now. You really could’ve just called to check in. It wasn’t necessary to come home. She was just a bit panicked when she didn’t know where you were and didn’t recognize me.”
“A bit panicked?”
She grimaced. “A phone call still would’ve been fine.”
I nodded, glancing back into the kitchen and watching Mom lift her spoon, milk dripping down her chin as she smiled at nothing in particular. Yeah. She’s okay now, but for how long?
That was the part that frightened me most. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my real life—this messy, fragile, complicated life—was always going to be waiting to bring me crashing back down to earth.
Until finally, one day, it wasn’t waiting anymore. And that thought? That was so, so much worse.
Bree watched Mom when I went to change. Then she headed out and I joined Mom in the kitchen after saying goodbye. Mom was focused on her cereal again now, the spoon clinking rhythmically against the bowl.
I glanced at her fruit salad, noticing that she’d finished most of that as well. A good sign, at least. “What’s the verdict on the bananas? Are they ripe enough this time?”
She looked up, blinking like she’d only just realized I was there. Then she grinned. “Barely. You used to be better at picking them, but they’re not bad. We’ll just have to give them another day or so before they’ll be perfect.”
I laughed. “Well, I used to have more time to spend in the produce aisle. I’ll take almost perfect any day, under the circumstances.”
“When it’s a banana you’re talking about, almost perfect really is perfect, but you always were picky.” She pointed her spoon at me. “Remember when you wouldn’t eat anything green for a whole year?”
“Please,” I groaned, smiling despite myself. “You’re the one who kept trying to pass off peas as candy.”
“They were sweet peas,” she said, completely serious. “It has the word sweet right there in the name. That counts.”
When she laughed, the sound was so bright and unexpected that it smacked right into the middle of my chest and burrowed a nice little hole there for itself to live in.
We drifted into quiet for a bit, vaguely listening but also not really as some daytime talk show hosts on TV debated about miracle skincare routines.
Eventually, Mom looked at me again. “We should go to the beach.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “We should go sometime.”
She nodded. “We should. Before the end of the summer.”
My heart cracked a little bit at the realization that she was slipping away again. It’s January, Mommy.
“Sure.” I swallowed my tears and managed to give her a reassuring smile, even though it felt like I was seven seconds away from a complete breakdown. “We’ll go soon. I promise.”
She gave me that sweet, vacant smile again, like she half-believed it and half didn’t. “You always say that, but summer doesn’t last forever, darling.”
Neither will the winter. Just a few more months. Just a few more, Mommy.
We stayed in the kitchen for a while, talking about nothing.
Things like whether seagulls could live in the city and what we’d do if we ever won the lottery.
Normal things. Ordinary things. I clung to every second of the conversation though, because this was becoming rare, being able to talk to her about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.
Mom’s good days were getting fewer, slipping through my fingers like water. Any stretch of lucidity felt like borrowed time, but the emotional whiplash hurt.
Just hours ago, I’d been tangled up in luxurious white sheets with Holden and feeling alive. Now I was here, sitting across from my mom and wondering if she’d even remember what the beach was by the time it was warm enough to take her again.
From the glowing morning to the harsh reality of noon.
What made it even harsher was that I was falling for him. For Holden. I’d been trying not to acknowledge it, but after last night, there was no more point trying to deny it to myself. I knew it, but my life was too messy for a billionaire.
Holden belonged to a world of marble floors, chandeliers, and champagne fountains. I belonged here, with a mother who sometimes forgot my name and a store that was barely keeping its lights on.
He’d liked me in that dress, all smiles, sexy dancing, and no responsibilities, but that wasn’t me. The real me was tired, stretched too thin, and terrified of losing everything.
I picked up Mom’s empty bowl and rinsed it in the sink. She was humming to herself under her breath, soft and content. Meanwhile, I was feeling more and more like a complete mess. A failure.
Between saving the store, taking that class, and taking care of her, I barely had time to breathe. Holden deserved better, which was a tragic realization. Deep down, I knew I’d never meet another man like him.
But I didn’t have the luxury of letting myself believe in happy endings. Not right now. No matter what, all that mattered was finding a way of keeping my head above water. If that meant no Holden, then so be it.
He probably wouldn’t even want me if he knew who I really was anyway.