32. Derek
“Sir, please keep in mind that this will be a court order. If Ms. Stone fails to uphold the terms listed in this order, make sure you call us because that will give us probable cause to arrest her. Clear?” Officer Thompson says, his eyes stone cold as he looks between Georgia and me.
I squeeze her knee and nod. “We understand.”
Officer Thompson gives the two of us a sturdy nod before shaking my hand and leaving us in the room alone with our thoughts.
Georgia blows out a puff of air, a strained smile on her face as she looks up at me, “Does this mean that we’ll be okay? No more crazy exes?”
Chuckling, I kiss her forehead as she stands. “Not unless she wants to be arrested.”
Georgia nods, her smile a little less forced as we walk hand in hand out of the local Summerfield precinct.
I didn’t find out about Rosemary’s stunt until after our game last night. All of the girls waited for us in the team's tunnel, my mother included, and then we all celebrated the last game of the season together at Doug’s Diner.
The entire team ended up coming to support the senior teammates.
I’d known immediately that something had happened because both Sienna and Georgia were quieter than usual.
Denver tried to keep the energy up between everyone, but when both of the extroverts in the group aren’t speaking, you know there’s something wrong.
When Georgia told me everything that transpired last night, I was livid. I wanted to find Rosemary right then and there, cuss her out—hell, I wanted to do something, but I couldn’t. The girls were safe. Georgia was lying in my arms, and Delilah was home with my mother. They were okay.
Georgia gives my hand a small squeeze, drawing me back to the present.
“We’re okay, Derek. No more baby mama drama, no more—” She’s cut off by the ringing of my phone.
We both furrow our brows at the sound. I pull the phone from my pocket and sigh.
“Mom’s calling, wait in the car for me?”
She doesn’t respond. Instead, Georgia raises up on her toes and kisses my cheek. The skin beneath her lips warms, and I grin. “I’ll be waiting.”
I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave.
The vibration of my phone reminds me of my mother’s call, and with a sigh, I answer it.
“Vuelve a casa, tenemos que hablar1,” she says, leaving zero room for discussion before she hangs up the phone.
I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck.”
Georgia and I ride to my mother’s house in complete silence, her hand smoothing circles in the hair on the nape of my neck.
My shoulders are tense, eyes focused on the road ahead as I drive us to what I presume to be our doom.
Mamá and I haven’t had a true conversation since I told her that Georgia and I got married, and now she wants to talk?
I don’t think I like the sound of this.
When I pull up to the house, parking in the driveway, Georgia attempts to get out of the car, and I stop her.
“I don’t think it’ll be long. Let me handle this, and you sit tight, okay? You could probably work on your sketches for the show while she and I talk,” I say, hoping that she can’t see the anxiety racking up in my body.
What could my mother possibly want to speak about?
Georgia scrunches her brows for a second before straightening her spine. “Oh… Okay, I’ll uh… I’ll wait here.”
I give her a quick smile and get out of the car, ready to face my biggest obstacle by far.
My mother.
It’s awkward between the two of us when I sit next to Mamá on her porch outside. She’s nursing a cup of Café Bustelo, the strong smell of the coffee permeating the air between us as I take a sip of the water she’d offered me when I walked in the house.
We don’t speak for a minute, the two of us watching as the breeze moves across the water of her outdoor pool. She heaves a sigh, taking a sip of her coffee. My knee bounces as my attention snaps to hers.
“Was there a reason—”
“I’m giving you your inheritance.”
My heartbeat picks up, the air growing crisp as I register her words.
“My inheritance?” I breathe the words quietly, fearing that if I speak any louder, she’ll take back her words.
Mamá turns to me, her eyes wistful as she nods. She turns her body to fully face me, taking one of my hands into her smaller ones.
“After everything that I’ve pulled these past few months, not only do I owe you an apology, I owe you what is rightfully yours.
You’ve chosen a woman who cares so much for both Delilah and you that she fought to protect you two.
You’ve become a man around her. You’re attentive and protective of them—I would be a fool not to see that and an even bigger one to not give you what you’re owed.
I’m sorry that I brought Rosemary back into the picture.
I hope you can forgive me,” she says, the last of her words quiet as she squeezes my hands.
My heartbeat triples as sweat beads on my temples. I could have everything that I’ve ever wanted, but it's all built on a lie.
“Mamá, I—”
She cuts me off, a warm smile on her face. “I know this is a lot, but mijo2, you deserve it. Besides, I already told our lawyers and the accountants. They’ll have your inheritance deposited in your account on graduation day. Congratulations, mi vida3.”
“Gracias, Mamá4.”
She kisses my forehead tenderly before squeezing my shoulder and walking back inside. I sit in the quiet outside for a moment and think about what happened, but all that’s on my mind is her.
Without Georgia, I wouldn’t have been able to get my inheritance, and now she needs me more than anything to get her empire off the ground, and I think I know just how to do it.
I need to text my godmom… Nodding my head, my excitement builds as I get back in the car.
Georgia’s nose-deep in her sketchbook and startles the second I’m seated in the car next to her.
“So… did she get upset about yesterday? Are you okay?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder as I chuckle softly.
“I’m great, actually… We got it.”
She gives me a confused look, putting down her sketchbook.
“The inheritance. It’s ours.”
1 Vuelve a casa, tenemos que hablar - Come home, we need to talk
2 Mijo (Spanish) - my son
3 Mi Vida (Spanish) - my life
4 Gracias, Mamá (Spanish)- Thanks, Mom