Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
TRULY
It's endearing how Blake gushes over me to people.
A few even said that it was about time they'd met me.
I'm not fully sure if they mean because Blake has spoken about me so much or simply because they know who I am in general.
The city isn't as big as people believe it to be. Not when it comes to social circles.
"You're popular," I tell him when we finally get to our table.
"It's you that they are curious to speak to." Blake pulls my chair out for me.
"Everyone has been very nice."
"As they should." I don't miss the protectiveness of his tone.
It's all making my head spin. I had shoved a lot of stuff Mabel had said to me to the back of my mind. She doesn't know Blake the way I do. That's what I told myself, but I've been paying attention to everything.
He's so attentive, but he is still working a lot.
I was under the impression that he was downsizing or getting out of any entanglements with our family, but now I'm not sure if that's true. A few of the comments people have said have me speculating once again. I hate that I’m having this internal turmoil when it comes to him. It doesn’t feel right.
It wasn't only the one about him opening another branch. Another man had mentioned something about a new investment.
When a server delivers a glass of champagne to everyone at the table as they begin to serve the first round of food, I reach for it and bring it to my lips.
The liquid barely hits my tongue when another thought dawns on me.
I could be pregnant. I’m not on anything, and we haven’t been using protection.
It’s not really far-fetched that I could be. I set the glass back down.
Blake's brows rise at me in question. I shrug and take a sip of water. What if I am pregnant? I can’t help but slip my hand down to my stomach.
A million questions flood my thoughts. It's hard to make small talk with others at the table with my mind spinning, but I do my best to remain present in the conversation.
I don't know if it's in my head or real, but my stomach starts to get queasy.
“What’s wrong?” Blake immediately asks. I love how well he can read me. If he weren’t truly invested in this marriage, would he even bother to get to know me so well? Then again, when Blake does anything, it’s not half-assed.
“I need to use the ladies’ room,” I tell him before excusing myself from the table.
“I’ll walk with you.” Blake stands before I can, pulling my chair out for me in the process.
“You’re really here,” a woman says, appearing next to us. Blake gives her a real smile. It takes me a second, but I realize this is the woman from the picture. The lawyer at the hotel bar. "I'm Lauren."
"The lawyer."
"That's all you've ever said about me?" She gives Blake a pointed stare. One I bet she gives to people on the witness stand. I'd be giving up my secrets if it were me.
"Lauren, this is my wife, Truly." He formally introduces us.
"We go way back," she tells me, offering me her hand. I take it.
"It's nice to meet you too," I tell her. I'm not sure if I mean it. I can't stop the jealousy I'm feeling. It's not only that she's beautiful and that they'd hung out in a hotel bar but also that she said they go way back. She knows Blake in ways that I don’t.
He and I go way back too, or we did. There is so much I don't know. "Here, take my chair," I tell Lauren. "I'm going to run to the bathroom really quick."
"I was going to walk you." Blake rushes to stop this from happening.
"He's obsessed with me. I can't even go to the bathroom now," I joke, but I know I said it partly out of jealousy, which Lauren shouldn't be getting from me.
She laughs. "Let the girl use the bathroom. I actually wanted to talk to you about that email you sent me," Lauren says, making Blake's expression grow serious.
"Fine." Blake presses a kiss to my lips before finally releasing his hold on me.
It's then, as I walk away from the table, that I see how many people are watching us but trying to pretend not to. I see a few people whispering together, not great at hiding that they are gossiping, and maybe they aren't trying to hide it.
When I make it to the bathroom, I let out a small breath of relief. I should be used to these kinds of events, but it's been a long time. I don't miss them; in fact, it's a reminder of how much I don't care for them.
How was I planning on this being my life? That I'd have a workaholic husband that I love, but I would fill my days with charities with the same kind of women my mother favors. I'll never be sure if a person is friends with me because they want to be or they're using me because of who my husband is.
I would be doing that and tending to our children. I'm not opposed to the whole nanny thing. However, I'd want a nanny for date night or extra hands at times. I want a present father.
"Breathe," I tell myself. I'm letting my thoughts get the best of me. I could be having them all for nothing, and all of this is a con on me. I tell myself to talk to him, but if it is a ruse, all he'd do is lie to me.
My hand goes to my stomach once again. If I'm pregnant, I'll be stuck. Then what? The bathroom stall suddenly feels too small, and I need air. I push open the door and freeze when I see my mother standing there.
"What are you wearing?" she asks before I can fully process her being here.
"Mother." I force a smile.
"You don't answer my questions now?" Her chin rises. She's got a very icy demeanor. My mother can be hit or miss. There were rare glimpses when she actually showed she could be a mom. Although those grew less and less as I got older. I adjusted and learned not to expect that from her.
"I'm an adult. I can wear what I like."
"I mean, you can." Her eyes flick up and down me in the same judging way they always have. "But I wouldn't suggest it."
"What do you want?" Now it's me that turns on an icy demeanor, or I try. Mother rolls her eyes at me.
"I'm here for you. Doing what no one ever did for me." It has to be something that can't be paid for.
"And what's that?" I bite out when she doesn't keep going.
"I wish I'd been saved from your father." Now, that is nowhere close to what I thought she might say.
“So you’re here to save me from Blake, is what you're saying?”
She must hear the sarcasm in my tone because I catch the fleeting look of anger on her face. She tries to hide it, and the Botox helps, but I still catch it.
“I’m your mother. Of course I want to save you.” She tries her best to sound sincere, but I know she might have an ulterior motive.
“Why is it you think I need to be saved?” She glances down and then away. For a second, I swear guilt shows.
“I was okay with all of this initially when you were away, but now you’re back in the city and with him.
” I hate the disdain she has when speaking of Blake.
I have never seen or heard it before. Last I recall is her gushing over him, but if my mother is great at anything, it's a performance. Was she performing then, or is she now?
"And why do we suddenly hate Blake?"
"It's not only Blake," she sneers. "It's all of them, honestly." Mother waves her hand toward the door. “They use us.”
"Mom," I sigh.
"I know, I haven't been any better. It's hard when you grow up this way. Things can get the best of me."
"That doesn't explain ignoring me for the past few years," I point out.
"We came to see you a few times and—" The look I give her has her cutting herself off. "You're right." I must have heard her wrong because there’s no way she admitted that out loud. That's new. I have never heard her say that before. "But you know your father. He always wants me with him."
That is true. They can fight like crazy, but my father wants to keep her tucked close to him. It could be love or that he sees her as property.
“You could have texted or emailed.” There are other ways to stay in contact. Mother starts to speak again, but I hold up my hand to stop her because I’m not done speaking. I can tell the gesture surprises her.
I’m done being pushed and ordered around, unless I want to be. Then it’s my choice. I do enjoy how bossy Blake can get at home, but I’m not letting my mind go to those dirty thoughts right now.
My mother is in front of me, and I know she has information that I want. I’m not sure how reliable it will be, but I want it, nonetheless.
“You and Dad made sure I was isolated from everyone."
“Protected,” she hisses back at me. “You were safe and sound there. Getting one of the best educations in the world.”
“That’s not the point!” I throw my hands up. “You all made those decisions without me.”
“You signed that marriage certificate."
“Yes, because I was manipulated, and you used the one thing against me that you knew could control me.”
"It was for your own good." Still so defensive. How about an "I'm sorry" and "I was wrong," or "I could have handled it differently"? That's not what I'm getting.
"No, it wasn’t. Blake and I wanted to be together, and you made sure that didn't happen."
"Blake wants to use you, sweetheart. The same way your father uses me." This time her tone is serious with no theatrics. "He would have had you pregnant within months. I was guessing that was his plan. If he got you pregnant…" She doesn't have to finish because we both know what she's getting at.
"Maybe that's what I wanted."
"I'd thought that too." She speaks from experience.
"Ouch," I laugh. So I too was a tool to be used from the very start.
"We're adults here, Truly. I don't regret having you." Not sure I'm buying that. I might believe that she feels some sense of guilt about her choices regarding me, but I'm not certain. I'm sure that's my own delusion of wanting to think she could be a better person.
"Well, it doesn't matter." If I wasn't sure about wanting to leave the city, I am now. "If I am pregnant, my baby won't be a tool."
"You can't control that. Blake is filthy rich and more like your father than you know."
"Really," I say sarcastically. “Did Blake bleed his family's money dry too?" Her lips purse.
"I can divorce Blake if he uses me."
"Keeps using you, you mean. He had no choice but to marry.
It was the only way for him to take over.
He did what he thought was best, and with these men, I promise you power and money will always come first." I shake my head no.
"I was na?ve, too, once upon a time.” My mother did nothing to try and stop it from happening.
She encouraged it. I did the same. It's what I thought I was supposed to do, but now, I can't bring myself to let the situation go on.
"Blake didn't need to marry me. He had his whole business that he had to absorb into his family's and our shared investments."
"Exactly." She glances toward the door, and I'm sure we are running out of time.
Blake will come searching for me soon. "They always want more.
Bigger and better." Mother rolls her eyes as if she's not the same.
"More than anything, it was what his grandfather requested.
That's what he was most concerned about. "
The only other person I know for a fact Blake cares about is his grandfather. He never wants to disappoint him.
"He loves me, and you might not know this yet, but he's retiring very soon." At least he is from all this bullshit. Mother throws back her head and laughs, making my stomach cramp.
"Oh, sweetheart," she says when noticing my distress. "That's not true. He's been making all kinds of new investments. Did he tell you he was retiring?" Her brows furrow together like she can’t fathom him uttering those words.
I never thought I could fathom them either.
“I’m not feeling so great.” I press my hand to the wall, feeling faint.
“Oh.” She touches my forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re warm. Let's get you out of here. You need to lie down. God, what if he poisoned you?"
“What?” Is she talking about Blake?
“What? These things happen. Then he’d be entitled to everything of yours.” I shake my head, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Blake,” I manage to croak out, my knees feeling weak.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t come near you.” Mom grabs me as my knees buckle and the whole world turns on its head.