42. Chapter 42

42

Hope

There is no family dinner because Dad isn't home. Mom tricked me.

We sit in the kitchen, eating the meal she made for the three of us but there's only the two of us.

"I don't know why he isn't home. He promised me he would be."

I stay quiet, thanking my luck. I want to stay as far away as I can from him.

"Why do you think he isn't home?" She directs the question at me as if I know where he is. What she doesn't know is we don't talk at all. Ever since he's moved back in we haven't had a conversation that didn't end with him hitting me.

"I don't know." I shrug and devour the food. It's delicious and I'm hungry—after I puked my guts out hours ago.

To avoid him, I've been skipping meals. All I eat are the remainder of my snacks—which aren't a lot. I had a pack of chips from months ago that I ate for a week. It finished a few nights ago. Now I have nothing in my room. When I took a shower this morning, I saw how much weight I'd lost. I'm all bones now. Skinnier and more tired than I've ever been in life. When I scrub myself, I can count my ribs and feel my hip bones. There's not much meat on me.

I'm deteriorating, and the worst part is that Mom can't see it. She's fixated on him.

All the money I've earned from my little business, I've been saving it. I don't spend a single penny because I want to buy myself books or a nice phone. Who am I kidding? It'll be books.

Mom gives me a warm smile. "Don't worry. We'll have a family meal together one evening."

It takes every bit of my self-restraint to not let my true emotions show.

When my silence extends, she says, "I saw that guy who dropped you off. It's the same guy. Does he do that a lot?" Her curious eyes set on me.

This time Heath parked the car two houses down, instead of ten. Big mistake.

"Sometimes," I murmur.

Her gaze turns calculating. "How often?"

"A few times."

"Does he live nearby?"

"No."

Mom looks quite keen on knowing about him. "What's his name? Where does he live?"

These are all the questions I want to avoid. I don't want to tell her about Heath. There might be a chance she mentions him to Dad.

I look into her serious gray eyes. "He's just a friend, Mom."

Wrong move. I should've been careful with my words.

Mom sits upright. "He's a boy. A young teenage boy. They always want something, Hope."

"He's not like that." I know it's not true. Heath doesn't want anything from me. I don't have anything to offer to him, anyway. All I have, he's got much more and better. For heaven's sake, he lives in a mansion and is so rich.

Doubt seeps in. He has everything, so why does he want me?

I think about you all the damn time.

I wonder why he thinks about me at all. I've got nothing but complications and troubles in my life.

Mom smirks. "You really are stupid, honey."

The insult claws my heart in the worst way possible. "I'm not. We're just good friends."

"Your father and I were good friends."

I hold my mouth to not scowl or utter a snide remark.

"Now we're here," she says with a bright smile,

I take a bite to not say anything but Mom's adamant to talk about Heath. "That boy is like every other hormonal guy who is looking for girls like you to prey on."

Anger laces my words as I glare at her. "I told you, it's not like that."

Mom doesn't take heed. "Be honest. Has he touched you?"

He has, but not the way she thinks.

He's touched me to hold me. He's touched me to wipe away my tears. He's touched me to comfort me. He's touched me to make me feel safe. He's touched me to give me a perfect kiss that I've only read about in books.

"No," I lie.

The way her lips quirk up in reply, tells me she doesn't believe me one bit.

"Well, that's interesting. I guess I'll tell your dad to have a chat with him."

I jump out of my chair in shock. Blood rushes through my veins, and the loud drum of my heartbeats roars in my ears.

I shiver at the idea of him knowing about Heath, and what he'll do to me.

"I told you we're just friends, Mom," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "I wasn't born yesterday. I know what happens when a guy drives a girl home."

"It's not like that."

"Your father used to—"

"He's not Dad."

Mom glares at me. "And he won't be because I won't let him. When Alex comes home, I'm discussing this with him. You can't be distracted."

"No! Please don't tell him. Please, " I beg her.

A sick smile plays on her lips, and she's never looked more evil before.

I'm half convinced I'm hallucinating.

Right now, she looks far away from the sweet, friendly mother I grew up with, and closer to a manipulative, clever woman.

She hums. "That boy and you are having sex."

I blanch. "No! I swear he's not touched me like that."

My hands turn clammy with how nervous I am. The wetness makes me feel disgusted. I rub them over my jeans, but they sweat all over again.

I need to convince her, somehow. "We're not having sex. I wouldn't do that. I'm young and I want to go to med school. I would never jeopardize my future like that. You know me."

I speak all that's expected of me rather than what's inside my heart. This is the only way to get myself off the hook.

"Like hell you will ruin your future. I will make sure you won't." Her gray eyes pierce through the air like an arrow, hitting me in the chest.

My lips tremble. "Please don't tell him. He's only a friend."

Mom finishes her meal. She takes her time with every little movement, driving me frantic.

Standing up, she collects the dishes and puts them in the sink.

I stand still, waiting for her to tell me that she won't tell her husband. She and I both know, it won't end well; what she doesn't know is it won't end well for me.

Leaning against the sink, she folds her arms and studies me. "I won't tell your dad if you promise me you'll stop seeing him."

I can hear it. The sound of my heart breaking into pieces.

"I can't do that."

Mom rolls her eyes as if I'm being dramatic and these aren't my true feelings.

She doesn't care about me. Not anymore.

Like him, she's changed.

"Trust me you'll find a better guy than him. One I'll find one for you. For now, you need to focus on your studies."

Heath is that better guy.

"I'm getting good grades," I argue.

Mom looks displeased. "That can fall if you hang out with a guy like him."

"He's got nothing to do with it," I almost scream.

Mom glares at me. "Don't take that tone with me, Hope."

I shake my head. "Just don't tell Dad. I will keep my distance from him. He'll get mad at me, Mom. It scares me."

Mom gives me a long look. "Fine. I won't tell Alex. But you start distancing yourself from that boy. And for fuck's sake don't let him drive you home. One day it won't be me who sees him dropping you off."

"Okay."

I don't know what she sees in my eyes, but her eyes soften, and for a second I see love flashing through them. She reminds me of the good days when we were close. Now we're only drifting apart like two ships moving in opposite directions.

"Finish your dinner and then go up to study."

I agree eagerly.

Mom watches me. I feel stupid for letting her see how relieved I am that she won't tell him. She can take advantage of the weakness.

I can only hope she doesn't.