Page 50 of Hate to Love You
If I know Mom, she’d probably drive to Whitmore just to wring his neck. She has the tendency to be a bit of a mama bear when she feels someone is attacking me. Plus, she was never very high on him in the first place. I chalked it up to the divorce, which was so fresh at the time, but her instincts were spot-on. More so than mine were. The thought of her confronting Reed is almost enough to make me smile. “Nope. Just wanted to spend a little time with my mom.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. You know how much I love having you around.”
Sometimes I feel guilty for living on campus when Mom is here all by herself. I offered to stay at the house and commute to school, but she was firm in her decision that I needed to live my own life and not worry about her.
But I still worry. I hate the idea of her coming home to an empty house at the end of a long day.
Now feels like a good time to change the subject. “How’s work going?”
She transfers half the meat to a plate in order to fry up the rest. “It’s going really well. I have a couple who is going to make an offer on their first home tomorrow, so that’s exciting. I need to meet them at the property at ten so they can take one more look around and then we’re going to write up the offer.” She glances at me. “Maybe after that we can go out for lunch?”
I nod and take a sip of my water. “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.”
She smiles. “Great.”
As my mom and I continue chatting, all of the tension that had been filling me drains from my body. My shoulders no longer feel like they’re up around my ears. It only makes me realize how much stress I’ve been holding inside.
I’m not sure if I can deal with another week of feeling like I’m living under a microscope. How long do I have to wait until I’m able to extract myself from this relationship? A week? Two? More?
Oh, God…
That sounds excruciating.
“Are you sure nothing’s going on? Because I get the feeling you’re not telling me something.” She waves the kitchen tongs in my direction. “Your forehead is all scrunched up.”
It takes some effort to smooth out my features.
It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s picking up on my mood. She’s always had some kind of weird parental radar where I’m concerned. It was frustratingly annoying when I was a teenager and trying to slip things past her.
Which, trust me, didn’t happen very often.
As tempted as I am to spill my guts, my recent developments aren’t something I can share with her. “Nope. It’s all good.”
Hands going to her hips, she pins me in place with her gaze until I squirm on my stool. “Natalie Marie, I know when something’s bothering you. Do us both a favor and spit it out.”
In this kind of situation, deflection can be your friend. “Why do you think something’s going on?”
She tilts her head and studies me for a moment. “Because I know you and can see it in your face. You looked stressed. And you’re quieter than usual, more introspective. You know I hate when you keep things from me.” She shoots me a look. “It makes me worry more than I probably should. So how about you just put me out of my misery and tell me what’s going on?”
Now that the stroganoff is simmering on the stove, she takes a seat next to me. Her gaze combs over me with even more intensity. It won’t take much prodding for her to break me.
When I don’t respond, she asks, “Does this have anything to do with the dinner you and your dad had a couple of days ago?”
That’s not a situation I want to discuss with her. Mom is still in a fragile state. In less than a year, her entire world has been turned upside down. Telling her about Dad’s engagement will only hurt her, and I don’t want to do that.
I focus my attention on a swirl of color in the tan granite and mumble, “No, dinner was fine.”
“Really?”
I shrug and keep it vague. “Yep.”
She sighs. “Natalie, you can be truthful with me.”
My eyes dart to her, and she arches a brow. Not only does she sound skeptical, her face is full of it. Like she doesn’t believe one word coming out of my mouth. And I hate that. Because I’m an only child, Mom and I have always been close.
“I am.”
Almost gently she says, “Your dad called me yesterday and told me about his engagement.”