30. Maxon
My dad’s house is a large colonial style building that’s decorated in antiques and anything that Fiona deems “worthy” of being presented in her well curated house.
I refuse to call this place a “home” because there is nothing “homey” about it.
When I was younger, before Fiona came into the picture, I can vaguely remember when this place didn’t feel so cold and distant, like a museum instead of a place that housed a lonely child that acted out just to get attention. Back then it was me, Dad, and whatever nanny he’d hired for the week. We got by on our own for the most part, I ignored or tormented whoever he’d assigned to watch after me. That is until he met Fiona who played the role of “perfect woman” flawlessly until they were finally married and she showed her true colors.
Honestly though, they don’t spend enough time together for her to actually bother him anyway so her conniving personality doesn’t really affect him.
As I enter the large house, my phone buzzes with another one of Paige’s texts, but I ignore it. I know she’s just going to ask me to leave Fiona alone, to ignore the issue that I’ve ignored for the last eight years.
Truthfully, I found out about what Fiona had said to Paige a couple of years ago. And after having spent years thinking Paige had just left because she didn’t want me around, I found it easier to continue believing that version of the story versus being brave enough to go after Paige and try to win her back.
Like I said before, bravery was never my strong suit.
And the fear that she would just turn me down again usually outweighed the hope that she still loved me the way I still loved her. It had been years of avoiding her, even if she had loved me when she left didn’t mean that she loved me still. She couldn’t possibly have believed Fiona’s words for that long…
It was the kiss though, the one in the restaurant, that changed everything. As if it had reset my brain back to bending over backwards to get her attention, to make a fool of myself to make her smile, and bend to her every will and desire just to get a glimpse of that light in her eyes.
I’m hopeless for her and I don’t mind one bit.
Which is why I need to ensure no one thinks they can drive her off again.
“Is Fiona here?” I ask a passing housekeeper who tracks me with wide eyes for a moment before nodding.
“She’s in the study with your father,” she says in a timid voice. “She wasn’t very happy if I may be so bold to say.”
I let out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.” I mutter as I make my way down the hall.
When I step up to the large doors to my father’s study, I’m immediately hit with an onslaught of memories from my childhood when I’d be summoned to this very spot. Dealing with Fiona was one thing, having to deal with my stubborn, stuck in his ways father, was a completely different hurdle that I’ve always strived to avoid. An argument that was bound to come to a head at some point.
Pushing the doors open I find both my father and his wife mid-discussion and their attention snaps towards me with matching, confused looks.
I was never the defiant child. Sure, I would get into trouble with nannies and teachers, but I never went against my father or stepmother. If they wanted something from me, I would do it, if they wanted a certain behavior I would act that way. Never before have I stormed into my father’s office with fire in my veins ready to tell them both just what I think of them, fueled by emotions that have been buried for far too long. Unspoken words that should have been said years ago. Lines that should have been drawn finally in place.
And dang if it didn’t feel good to finally be standing up for Paige.
“What did you say to her?” I say, and going off the way Fiona’s brows arch and features settle into distasteful indifference, I know I don’t have to put any context with my question.
She crosses her arms, settling deeper into her chair. “I simply asked what her intentions were and reminded her of her status.”
I scoff, Fiona’s never liked Paige, not when we were kids, not when we were teenagers when she suspected the shift in our relationship, and especially not when I told them I was going away with her after graduation. “Her status? What are we? In the 1800s? That woman has more class in her pinky finger than you do in your entire body.”
Fiona makes a shrill noise in disbelief, glancing to her husband for backup but he hasn’t even looked up from his computer at this point. “I think I’m a little better judge of character-”
“No, you aren’t.” I cut her off, my entire body vibrating with anger. “Paige is the most kindhearted, good intentioned, self-sacrificing person I know. She gave up everything to take care of her grandma, she’s worked her butt off to start up her own company, and I am not going to stand here and let the likes of you make her feel lesser while you just sit around, spending your husband’s money and thinking of ways to make all our lives miserable.”
She springs to her feet in anger, but even in her heels I’m still a good head taller than she is. “How dare you speak to me like that.” She nearly shouts, stealing another glance at her husband, looking for aide and this time he’s turned an uninterested look at us, as if our argument is a mere thorn in his side.
“Maxon, be polite to your mother.” He says dryly, and on a typical day, that would be enough to shut me up.
“I’ll be polite to her when she apologizes to Paige for everything she’s ever said to her.” I nearly shout in return and my father’s brows draw together in a frown, sensing the shift in what should have been the end of the conversation.
“I will do no such thing.” Fiona says shrilly, her voice resembling that of nails on a chalkboard in my ears. “She is a nuisance, the Bennett’s little pet that has leached onto you as her next, better, target. She’s not good enough for this family.”
I ball my fists to keep from punching something. “Do not talk to me about ‘good enough’ when I remember exactly which corner he picked you up on.”
She gasps, fury alight in her eyes as she glares back at me. “Watch it boy, you’re walking a fine line of disinheritance.”
And there it is, the nail in the coffin that would typically extinguish any rebellious fire that I had in me. The words that would have me tucking tail and apologizing to my stepmother and leaving without any further argument.
But not today.
Not when it’s Paige.
“If my inheritance is dependent on me losing the only woman I’ve ever loved then keep it. I. Don’t. Want. It.”