Chapter 12 #2
“You don’t behave like you’ll never be with Tessa, Nate.
” She leans forward, grasping the edge of the island, knuckles pale, fingernails pressing into the wood.
Her blue eyes drill into mine, sharp and unrelenting.
“Ever since that day when she overheard the news about her grandma passing and you took up comforting her … you’ve acted different with her, always. ”
I shift under her gaze, feeling the weight of her hands on the counter across from me.
“Remember Kristy?” she asks, voice rising slightly.
“That girl you dated in high school? She told you to stop canceling on her to hang out with Tessa. And what did you do? You took Tessa to the school dance instead. Kristy broke up with you—finally. And still, you were proud of yourself that night, weren’t you? ”
I grit my teeth. You’d think there was no more vodka in my stomach, but something sloshes at the memory.
Mom isn’t done. She leans closer, the faint scent of her perfume mixing with the lemon water. “And that kid you tutored? You bailed on helping him with that engineering project because Tessa needed help with math. So you left that kid twisting in the wind.”
I flinch, remembering the way Josh—my friend—stared at me, disappointed. Not unlike Robyn, except the betrayal and pain in her eyes had hit a thousand times worse.
“And you did it again,” Mom says, leaning back slightly, her hands now crossed over her chest, the tension in her shoulders obvious. “Only worse. Robyn’s supposed to matter more than anyone else. It’s not just a mistake—it’s a pattern.”
Her words land like hard knocks in my chest, her impatience and exasperation making my body shrink, but it’s not in my nature to just take it.
“That’s not fair. Robyn and I have been together for years, and we’ve never had a real problem.
” Aside from her schedule—and this endless waiting for her to choose me.
My mom clicks her tongue, exasperation written over her features. “I wonder what’s changed lately.”
I sink onto a stool at the island, shoulders slumping, face in my hands.
What hasn’t changed is I wasn’t worth staying for, again.
For a second, I’m nine again, standing in the hallway watching my father storm out of the house while mumbling that Mom can keep her career; there are plenty of women out there happy to have him.
“I-I can’t—” I choke, then shake my head, trying to force the words out. “I’m not a liar, Mom. I didn’t … I didn’t do what she thinks I did.”
Her silence is worse than words. I focus on the clattering of the ice maker, then every ache in my body: the hangover, the shame, the tightness in my chest where Robyn’s absence gnaws at me.
A knock at the door startles me, and I jump enough the stool taps against the island. The glasses on the counter wobble but don’t spill.
I head to the door and fling it open. Tessa’s voice floats through before I can even spot her. “Hey—the door downstairs was open, and I thought I’d check on you! We could order in, catch some movies, or … Oh! I’m sorry, Mrs. Leighton, I didn’t realize you were here.”
She steps in, uninvited, closing the door behind her. Her blonde hair catches in the lighting. She’s smiling, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside me.
Mom, sitting at the island with her tea, claps her hands together, a little too cheerfully. “Oh, sweetie, why don’t you come in and have some tea with us?” Her voice is honeyed, completely innocent on the surface—but my chest tightens because I know the undertone.
She’s baiting Tessa. Pay attention, Nate, Mom’s eyes tell me.
“Let’s catch up,” Mom continues, her eyes twinkling with that sly warmth only she can pull off. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time.”
Tessa beams, stepping farther into the kitchen, unaware of my stomach twisting. She drops her bag onto the counter, the soft thump echoing against the tiles.
“Why don’t you let me make you some tea?” she says, leaning casually against the edge of the island. “I’ve missed you, Mrs. Leighton.”
My jaw tightens. My mom’s subtle smirk doesn’t leave her face, but she doesn’t say anything more. And Tessa? She’s radiant, friendly … clueless.
Tessa lifts the kettle with practiced ease, betraying more familiarity with my apartment than she ought to have.
My mom frowns, eyes narrowing, sending daggers my way as they exchange small talk about the weather.
The kettle whistles, and Tessa pours the hot water into cups, steam curling between them.
Finally, Tessa perches on the stool, tracing the rim of her mug as she murmurs about a new book she’s reading. Mom hums along, stirring her tea in slow circles, the quiet clink of the spoon punctuating their polite chatter.
When Tessa’s almost done, Mom refills her cup. “So, dear, what this I hear about you and my son kissing on some video? Are you two together now?”
“Oh, Mrs. Leighton, it was just a joke! I think you misunderstood,” she chirps, leaning forward slightly, green eyes bright and innocent.
Mom laughs—a sharp, knowing sound. “Oh, silly me. You know old people and these new apps.” She sets her cup down with deliberate calm, letting the sound of porcelain meeting wood fill the tiny pause.
“Oh, Mrs. Leighton, you’re not old! You’re in the best years of your life, looking fly,” she says, her smile warm but careful.
Mom raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Oh, I guess I must have misread that caption about you taking a chance … and him kissing you back.”
I freeze for a fraction of a second. Every syllable feels loaded, like a trap I don’t want to fall into. Tessa stiffens, lips pressed in a line. “I explained to Nate. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to post it. Like you said, maybe you don’t understand how it works.”
My throat tightens. “Tessa—” Sourness and weakness coat my mouth.
Mom hums, lifting her hand for me to stop, and stirs her tea in slow circles, watching both of us. My chest constricts as her eyes glint with satisfaction.
“Well, at least this … this trend thing worked out for Robyn,” Mom says. “She told me today she kissed her best friend. What’s his name … Nate? I met him once.”
I grit my teeth. “Julian.”
“Yes, Julian,” she says, leaning back slightly, motion smooth, deliberate.
I tighten my fingers around my glass.
Then my mom adds, “He looked just delicious. A man like that … makes you want to be younger, you know—”
“Mom!” I snap, the heat reddening my cheeks crawling down my neck.
“What? Can’t I dream a little?” She sips her tea slowly, eyes sparkling with amusement.
I swallow hard, every nerve ending prickling.
“Wait—Robyn kissed her friend?” Tessa’s green eyes narrow slightly.
“Yes, dear,” Mom continues, syrupy and teasing. “I even heard he has piercings. Plural.”
“That’s awful,” Tessa states, a flash of indignation cutting through her polished composure. “Robyn and Nate have been broken up for, like, five minutes …”
I can’t stop the edge from my voice. “How is it awful of Robyn to kiss someone after she broke up with me, but okay for you to kiss me when I’m with her?”
The words hang between us, so sharp they could cut, and my stomach twists again, guilt and frustration warring inside me.
“Well, what we did was a joke,” Tessa says, hands tightening in her lap, nails pressing faintly into her palms.
“I don’t know, dear,” Mom says, tilting her head, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. “If you’d kissed my boyfriend, I might have had to slap you. Of course, all in good humor, a joke if you will. But a slap, nonetheless.”
I exhale slowly, tasting the weight of shame and disbelief.
“Mrs. Leighton, I think you misunderstand—”
“Tessa,” I cut in, hands flat on the countertop, tone low but firm. “I think you should leave. I need time with my mom.”
“But Nate—”
“Now, Tessa.”
She rises, tucking her hair behind her ear, shoulders squared, jaw tight, lips pressed thin. Polite, controlled, but the tension radiates from her. As the door closes behind her, relief and frustration knot together in equal measure.
Mom leans back in her chair, crossing one ankle over the other, hands folded loosely in her lap. “Well, I thought that was a great time. What would you say, son?” Her sly look tells me she knows exactly what she’s done.
Running a hand down my face, I sit back, trying to focus on my cup, but a prickle of unease crawls up my spine. Every word Tessa said seemed calculated, and I can’t shake the sense I’ve missed it—maybe for years—and how I might have lost something important for the first time.