Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
EMILY
Move in with him.
The words, the question, the statement. I’m not really sure what it is, but it swirls around inside my head as I work my shift. This is everything I have wanted for the last year, and it feels right, but it also feels too right.
Like the other shoe is about to drop.
Because how on earth can his family accept me? He loves me, I love him, and he asked me to move in with him, but can it all really be real? It can’t be real, can it? I don’t see how. Then there’s also my mother—she hasn’t been back.
So he took care of that for me, too, at least for now, which seems like a gigantic burden off my shoulders, because my mother would love to be mooching off me right now.
It all just feels far too good to be true.
Like I need to pinch myself to wake up, because I must be in a coma or dreaming or something.
As I move through my shift, I feel as if I’m walking on air, like I’m floating. That is, until I float over to a table in the corner, and there is my mother, but not just my mother; there is also Sabrina Deen sitting right next to her.
My steps falter, not because of my mother; that doesn’t surprise me at all. I thought about her. Therefore, I conjured her visit, I’m sure. I put it out into the atmosphere, even if it was just my thoughts. But Sabrina… I haven’t seen her in years, maybe even decades.
As much as I want to just turn around, walk out of the bar, and head home, I know I can’t do that. This is my job, and while I would love to do something different, this is all I’m qualified for right now, so I can’t lose it.
“What can I get y’all to drink?”
I look down at my notepad and focus on it, my pen steady in my hand. As much as I want to break down right now, I can’t. I also can’t look at either of them, and while most people would just let me be, my mother couldn’t ever do that.
I don’t know enough about Sabrina to know why she's here, but her sitting next to my mother is telling. Very fucking telling. No doubt this has to do with Baylor and them stirring up trouble so that my mother can use me until she finds another man to run away with and suck dry.
“Will you look at me, Emily?” my mother snaps.
Without me even thinking about it, my gaze flicks up, and my eyes find hers. I can sense the venom in her body. The way she looks at me, I know she’s going to strike at any moment.
“Mother,” I whisper.
She snarls at me. “So your new man lets you work here, like a whore. I guess he likes that, though. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be with you.”
“Please don’t, not here,” I whisper. “This is my work.”
She snorts. “Work,” she mutters. “A whore’s job. Showing your tits, showing your ass like that. Sleeping around with one of the Cooper boys. You’re the town bike, Emily. Everyone has had a turn. He won’t keep you.”
I want to tell her that she’s wrong, that he will keep me, but I decide staying silent is best, especially since I’m now questioning things, myself mostly. Doubts creep into my mind and my heart starts to slam against my chest, because what if my mom is right?
Maybe this is the shoe that drops.
I didn’t think it would happen so soon, and maybe I wished it on myself, but either way, here it is. She is here, and she is being her unpleasant self. I nibble on my bottom lip as I bite back my urge to scream at her, or turn and run; either would be an amazing option at this point.
“Is there something you would like to drink, or are you only here to call me names? Because if that’s the case, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
My mother opens her mouth, but then snaps it shut and jerks her chin as if she’s the cat that just got the cream.
She is looking over my shoulder. My breath hitches because, at that same moment, I watch Sabrina Deen shimmy her shoulders and puff out her chest to make her boobs appear bigger.
She hasn’t said a single word since she’s been sitting here, but she’s got a purpose—and I have a feeling that purpose just walked through the door.
I turn my head slowly, and my eyes scan the bar until they reach the main entrance door, and that’s when I see him.
It’s Baylor, and he’s not looking back at me.
No, his focus flicks between my mother and Sabrina Deen.
I can’t read his expression immediately, but as he walks closer, I notice he’s not just walking. He’s charging.
And he is pissed.