35. Wren #3
My mother’s face morphs through several different expressions, which is impressive given the amount of Botox she’s had, before settling on one I’m very familiar with: Fury.
“You’re being reckless,” she hisses.
“We had concerns about your judgment before,” my father tuts, shaking his head. What gets me is that he doesn’t look the least bit surprised. Like he expected me to screw up somehow. Rounding on me, he barks, “Do you have any idea what this would do to the organization?”
Not: Are you happy? Do you love him?
The organization.
Of course. That’s all either of them has ever cared about. Not me or my brother.
“The scandal this will cause,” my mother cries, flapping like a bird.
People nearby are starting to take notice now, conversations quietening as people listen in.
“The owner’s daughter and a player. Have you ever heard the likes of it?
” I can physically see my mother spiraling. “We’ll be the talk of the town.”
“I’m sure we can spin it,” my father adds, going into problem-solving mode. “She’s still a student, so we can play it as a college fling. It’s not ideal, but so long as it ends now, the fallout can be managed.”
Lucian speaks before I can. “Have you tried asking your daughter what she wants?”
“Excuse me?” My mother’s eyes narrow on Lucian.
Ronan calmly adds, “You’re discussing ideas, but you haven’t once stopped to consider her opinion.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
My parents look at them.
Then at me.
Then back at them.
“Gwendolyn—”
“Stop.” Holding my hand up, I cut my mother off. “Just stop.”
I look between the pair of them. “For years, you’ve been telling me what to do. You give me orders and expect me to fall into line like a good little soldier.” I shake my head. “But I’m done.
“For years I thought I hated hockey, but I don’t. I love it. Not just the game, but I love the management. The logistics. Organizing players. Arranging charity events. I love the community aspect. All of it.”
I look directly at my baffled parents.
“What I hated was that no one ever stopped to ask me what I wanted.”
My mother’s face pales slightly. Father’s jaw tightens. “You’ve had my entire life planned before I was even born, and when Carson threw a wrench in that, you changed it at a moment's notice without giving me a say. Without giving me the respect of being involved in the decision.”
I swallow hard.
“You decided who I was supposed to be.” The emotion I’ve carried for years rises suddenly. Sharp and painful, yet liberating. “And every time I pushed back, every time I rebelled…”
My voice cracks.
“You treated me like a problem that needed fixed.”
My mother opens her mouth before quickly closing it. For once, she doesn’t have a response ready.
I purse my lips. “Maybe I will run the Serpents one day.” Both of them go still; I can see the protest on my father’s lips. For once, I talk over him. “Maybe I won’t.”
I lift my chin, staring each of them down defiantly.
“But if I do, it’ll be because I choose to.”
Silence meets my declaration. My pulse hammers. My hands shake, and yet, I keep standing; keep looking at them.
“As for them…” My gaze slides toward the three men standing beside me. My chest aches, seeing the matching expressions of pride each of them is wearing like a badge of honor.
“They’re my choice too.”
Glancing back at my parents, I take great pride in blowing up the last of their world by adding, “For the record, I’m not dating Lucian.
” Relief flashes across my mother’s eyes before I destroy it.
“I’m dating all three of them, and I intend to keep dating them whether or not I come to work for the Serpents. ”
My mother gasps, clutching at her chest like she’s about to keel over from shock.
My father looks like someone has physically removed the ground beneath his feet. For the first time, there is true anger in his voice. “Gwendolyn—”
“No,” I cut across him. “It’s my turn to talk. I’m done being interrupted. Done being an afterthought. Done being given zero consideration. I’m making the decisions now, and this conversation is over.”
The silence that follows feels endless.
“This has been much more entertaining than I thought it would be,” Lucian interjects when it’s clear neither of them is going to be able to string a sentence together any time soon. “But I think it’s about time we took off.” He gestures toward the door, and I couldn’t agree with him more.
“Enjoy the rest of your night,” I tell my parents before sliding one hand into Silas’s, the other into Lucian’s, and with Ronan protectively at my back, we walk away.
As I slide into the limo, Silas tucks a piece of paper into my hand. Safely ensconced in the back seat, I unfold it.
Four words stare back at me.
Finally showed your fangs.
My eyes sting. I can practically hear the pride behind his words as I give him a watery smile.
Sitting here between the three men I chose—
The three men who chose me—
I realize something.
I’m not becoming the woman my parents wanted.
I’m becoming the woman I want to be.
And for the first time in my life, that choice belongs to me.