Judging by my mother’s bulging blue eyes, that blast from the past definitely did the trick with helping turn the tables back to her.
“Holy crap! He told you about all of that?” she asks.
“Yep. Just not the details. You’ll give me those, won’t you?”
She thinks it over while redoing her bun before finally saying, “Screw it! It’s his own fault for bringing it up. And nothing you can’t do an internet search for and find out.”
“Good, let’s hear it,” I say, slouching down in my chair to get comfortable.
“Your father and I met because, when he was your age, he got arrested.”
“For what?” I ask.
She cringes before finally saying, “Assault and, ah, rape.”
“What?” I exclaim, sitting up straighter in my seat.
“He didn’t do either, of course,” she hurries to explain. “But he was a famous, wealthy fighter, and a woman thought he would be an easy target to hit with violent charges. And somehow, thanks to my father, I ended up being his attorney as a PR stunt before finally taking the whole thing over.”
“Did the case go to trial?”
“Yep.”
“So you obviously won,” I say.
“Not exactly. We lost, but only because my jealous, idiotic ex was out to screw your dad over, so he paid off a juror. Not that we knew it at the time…”
“Jesus,” I mutter, unable to imagine my claustrophobic father in a tiny, concrete cell.
“He spent a few weeks in prison before your uncles and a private investigator helped us figure it.”
“And you married dad when he was in jail?” I ask.
“I had…messed up after he was sentenced and blurted out that I had committed an ethical violation that would have taken my law license if not for your Uncle Logan’s idea that Jax and I get married so he wouldn’t have to answer questions about our…relationship.”
“You slept with him when he was your client!” I say when it finally all comes together.
“I did,” she replies with a nod. “And I would make the same choices again even if I knew I wouldn’t be able to practice law.”
“Wow, Mom. That’s one helluva story,” I tell her while shaking my head in disbelief. “He also told me about the time you kicked him out of the house when I was three or four.”
“Did he?” she says through narrowed eyes. “Your father is a very chatty Cathy today for some unknown reason.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” I reply because I don’t want them to get in an argument about what he told me. “He was just trying to show me that there are bumps along the road in every marriage.”
“There are,” my mom agrees. “So whatever happened with Camilla, if you wanted to, you could try to work it out.”
“I really don’t think that’s possible,” I mutter.
“Since I know you’re not one to give up easily, I’m going to take a guess and say that she hurt you?” she asks without coming out and saying the words. My mom has always been intuitive and shit like that.
“She did, and I’m not sure if I can ever forgive her,” I admit.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive her, but I do think you maybe owe her a chance to make amends. Everyone makes mistakes, so shouldn’t you try to hear her side of the story? Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding.”
“Trust me, there was no misunderstanding about it,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “I moved out because I can’t even stand to look at her, Mom.”
“Wow, then I’m so sorry, honey,” she says with a pat to my arm. “I know you’re hurt and angry, but do you still love her?”
Blowing out a breath, I respond honestly, “I wish I didn’t. It would make filing the paperwork a helluva lot easier.”
“Sometimes a separation like that can be beneficial, to give you both time to heal and figure out what you want before you sit down and talk to see if you can work things out,” she says. “But you know I’m always here if you need someone to vent to or whatever.”
“I know,” I agree. “And I’ve been talking to Cassidy about it the last few months. She thinks leaving Camilla was the right decision.”
“Maybe it was. But Cassidy could also be a little biased when it comes to you,” my mother points out. “Does she still have hearts in her eyes when she sees you?”
“No,” I reply. “Cass is different. She’s all grown up now and has changed over the last few years. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice before.”
“Notice what?” my mom asks.
“That she’s more outgoing and has all of these new guy friends.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. And I mean, I get why. Cass constantly radiates this warmth that everyone around her is drawn to. I guess it just took her awhile to come out of her shell. Back when we were kids, I was her only friend.”
“So you’re saying that you miss being the center of her universe?” my mom surmises with a grin.
“I guess so, yeah,” I agree. “But I’m happy for her opening up to new people or whatever.”
“Are you really? Or have you finally removed the friend goggles to see her as possibly more…”
“What? No,” I immediately deny. “The friendship Cass and I have is even more sacred than vows. We’re forever, and there’s never been a doubt in my mind about that.”
“If you say so,” my mom replies in the tone of voice that says she doesn’t believe me.
Chapter Eight
Cassidy
I’m hanging upside down on the sofa when two enormous tree-trunk sized jean legs block the black television screen and the longest commercial break ever. I follow the tree up to the limbs and smile when I see his handsome face. “Xavier! You’re back!”
His beautiful upside-down face lowers to mine and he sniffs. “Are you drunk?”
“My mom came over,” I explain. Whispering, I tell him, “She’s easier to swallow with a little wine.”
“How much wine did you have, Cass?”
“Bottle,” I reply with a hiccup.
“You drank the entire bottle?” Xavier asks.
“Yep. Don’t sound so judgy-wudgy.”
“You outgrow being a lightweight?” he says with a crooked grin.
“Nope,” I respond.
When I lower my legs to turn right side up, the room spins around so fast I have to grab onto the armrest and hold on until it stops. Xavier is still towering over me in front of the sofa, looking down on me with an unknown expression on his face. There’s judgment maybe mixed with concern or something else in his silence.
“What?” I ask him.
“You’re gonna be throwing up in the morning, if you even make it that long,” he predicts.
“Probably right,” I agree. “I’m gonna puke on my phone and then make you pull it out of the toilet.”
“So you found it?” he asks with a huge smile. “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out where I left it.”