I scowled, standing up. “What does that even mean? And how did I become the center of this? Besides, we’re not talking about dating. I moved here to be with you guys. Dating isn’t in the picture.”
My mom looked as if she were about to shake her head but instead leaned against the headrest of her chair. I hated that she was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it. If I talked about it or focused on it, she would only become embarrassed and agitated. Still, I risked a glance at my father, who shook his head gently. Dad was watching her, and my mom would say something if she needed help. I just had to get used to seeing my mother this way. As if that would ever happen.
“It would be nice if you settled down,” Mom said.
I smiled, ice coating my veins because the unsaid words scared me to death.
It would be nice if I could settle down…before she was gone.
Jesus Christ. How was my dad doing this? How was I supposed to help?
Instead of wallowing, I winked and gave them the smirk I had practiced when I was a teen. “I’ll settle down once I find who I want. Before that, though, I have to taste the wares.”
Annabelle scoffed, while my mother rolled her eyes, and my dad laughed. “I raised you better than that,” Mom said.
“Maybe, but I like watching Annabelle’s color deepen into a plum red as I keep speaking.”
“Oh, I’m not angry,” Annabelle corrected. “I just feel pity for you. I mean, all those women out there rejecting you left and right? It’s got to be hard.”
“Nice,” I said through my teeth.
“You did ask for it, son,” Dad said. “Okay, dinner is ready. Let’s head into the dining room and see what we have to eat.”
“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Annabelle asked, wringing her hands in front of herself for a bare instant before she noticed me watching. Immediately, she very deliberately placed her hands on either side of her and looked as if she weren’t worried at all.
She should be worried. I hated that she was here, reminding me of everything I had lost, and being in the way. Why couldn’t she just go back to her family and stop trying to impede on mine?
“Of course. You’re family,” Mom said, her fingers twitching.
Annabelle immediately reached out to clasp my mother’s hands, giving them a slight squeeze. “That’s a lovely thing to say. And I’m pretty sure that Roger mentioned something about lemon chicken?”
“World-famous,” Dad said. I ignored the lines of strain at the corners of his eyes. He was exhausted, and I knew that while we were waiting for insurance to cover the full-time nurse, Dad was in limbo, like Mom was. I helped as much as I could, but between work and the fact that my parents didn’t want me doing everything, it wasn’t easy. But tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about happiness and peace—even if Annabelle Montgomery was a part of it.
We settled into the dining room and ate a lovely dinner. Mom smiled and chatted the entire time. She wanted us to be together as a family, apparently even if a Montgomery was part of that. As we cleaned up, Dad took Mom back to their bedroom to help with her next set of meds, and I did dishes as Annabelle dried.
“I didn’t realize you would be here,” Annabelle whispered.
I looked over my shoulder, grateful that with the layout of the house, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to hear. “I thought we were going to stay out of each other’s way.”
She shook her head, taking a plate from me. “I tried. But I have a standing dinner with your parents on Sundays. And sometimes I see them more often. Now that you’re here, it seems you’ll be a part of that. I’ve done this for years, Jacob. I’m not just now swooping in to ruin your life.” She paused. “According to you, I already did that years ago.”
I flinched but ignored the barb. I was an asshole, and I knew it. “I don’t understand,” I growled.
“You don’t need to understand it. My relationship with your parents and your brother has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It has everything to do with me.”
“You’re acting like such an idiot,” she spat.
“I’m acting like a man who watched you parade around on TV after my brother died. I watched you in a pretty wedding dress, soaking up the limelight for apparent funds or whatever. Money my parents never mentioned to me. That is what I see when I look at you. I don’t see the good girl my parents apparently do. You can take this precious little fantasy of yours and shove it. I will not let you hurt my mom and dad.”
Annabelle stared at me, blinking slowly before quietly setting down the plate she held, her hands shaking. “Please tell your parents thank you for dinner. I need to go.”
I cursed under my breath. “Annabelle—”
“No. I think you’ve said enough.” Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen. I sighed.
“You’re going to want to come into the living room, son,” my father said, his voice stony.
I set down the plate I had been washing, shut off the water, and turned to see my father glaring from the other end of the kitchen, his hands fisted at his sides.
“Dad—” I began.
“No. You’re going to get your ass out into the living room, and we’re going to have a talk. Because if I don’t have a second to calm down as you walk in here, I’m going to beat your ass for the way you just talked to that young lady.”
“You don’t know what she’s done.”
“No, it seems that you don’t. So, get your fucking ass into the living room.”
I hadn’t seen my dad with this much energy or spark in months. I blinked at him before exhaling, then turned on my heel and made my way to the living room as ordered.
My dad came the other way, his chest heaving as he worked through whatever the hell he was thinking. My mom glared at me, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “How could you?” she asked, her voice soft, cracking.
“What? What is it about her? You saw what the press did with her. She used it for personal gain. I don’t know what kind of game she was playing, maybe looking for sponsorship deals or money or speaking deals. I don’t know. But her face was plastered everywhere, the perfect little wife who gave up her innocence for my brother. It was a circus around here at the end. Don’t you remember?”
My mother swallowed hard. My dad paced behind her before gently putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Annabelle Montgomery is our daughter-in-law,” my dad bit out, and I let out a breath.
“Maybe legally, but not in any other way.”
“You do not get to put your titles on her.”
I looked at my mother as she spoke but didn’t say anything. I had a feeling if I did, I would only dig myself in deeper. I didn’t understand why they defended her like this or what I could be missing.
“I thought you knew everything, but it seems you were so blinded by grief or anger or whatever the hell you think she did, that you missed some key aspects of what happened in those final moments. So, we’re going to tell you,” my mother said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, uneasy.
My dad patted my mother’s shoulder and then leaned down. “You rest, I’ll explain,” Dad said. He looked up at me, grief weighing heavily on his face. “When we knew Jonah wouldn’t have long, when we knew we were nearing the end, he said that he wanted one last thing. A hail Mary, he called it. He wanted to marry his best friend, to call her his bride, something he would never be able to do thanks to the disease riding his body.”