21. Macy

Chapter 21

Macy

A knock sounds from the outside of my bedroom door. It slowly creeks open and carries my parents inside. My mom sits at the corner of my bed and my dad is standing in the middle of the room.

"I want to know why you allowed a random man to stay for dinner. We haven't seen you in over a month, and you think it's oka?—"

"That's enough!" my dad interrupts, both our heads snap in his direction. "Let her speak."

I dip my head and an involuntary smile tugs at my lips. I wipe the expression from my face when I meet my mom's gaze. "Grayson is not a random man. He's my friend, and he's nice to me." I shift, feeling the heat of her eyes on me, ready to pick apart and judge everything that leaves my mouth. I feel like a child. "I invited him over for dinner way before the three of you barged in here unannounced, which you already know. He was excited to meet you. He was kind to you, mom, yet you sit here and call him ‘strange'."

Her head tilts in a predatory manner. "So, you'll spread your legs because he was nice to you?"

"Mom!" I gasp. It feels as though I've been stripped bare and picked apart piece by piece, her demeaning gaze set upon my bloodied frame.

"You won't be part of this conversation if you're going to behave this way," my dad says.

"Am I wrong?" she asks. "I saw the way you two looked at each other."

If I bite down any harder, my teeth will shatter. "What I do or don't do in my private life is none of your business."

My dad shifts, clearly uncomfortable by my statement.

"Your precious Walter has been cheating on me. So don't reprimand me for the suspicions you have when I'm a single woman who is free to do whatever I want."

She goes silent, arms crossed in a way to protect herself from the truth. In her mind, Walter could do no wrong, and I was never in a rush to change that until now. She saw him the way I wished he was. But I'm done settling for anything less than what my grandparents had.

"You want to see his profile on the dating app? I can pull it up in less than two seconds."

A beat of silence is hanging between the three of us. My dad clears his throat, and then my mom whispers, "No. I believe you."

The weight of the world glides off my shoulders. The thick tension thins and suddenly it's as though we can all breathe a little easier.

"I painted a perfect picture so you guys would see him the way I wanted him to be." I look at my ceiling fan. Memories of our relationship bubble to the surface. "But he's awful," my voice stumbles and breaks over the words.

"I need to go take care of something," my dad mumbles, leaving me alone with my mom.

Silence drapes between us. She stares too intently at her nails, pushing back her cuticles as if nothing has been said. I shift my legs, crossing them and lifting the covers higher over myself.

"I—I'm sorry," she says. I can't suppress the shock on my face. Apologizing is foreign to a woman who can't admit when she's wrong. "You know, I dated some horrible guys before I met your dad?"

My eyes widen at her vulnerability. "I didn't know that." It's hard to imagine your parents' lives before you were born. It never occurred to me that either one of them dated anyone but each other.

"I remember what it was like to lie to my family. I wanted something awful to appear shiny to everyone but me." She looks at me in the eyes. "I'm ashamed that I never saw what was happening in my daughter's life. I know you're capable of hiding it well, I was too, but if anyone would see through it, it should've been me."

"It doesn't matter now."

Her gaze is on the wall, appearing deep in thought. The only sound is the breeze flowing through the house. She sighs and reaches for my hand above the comforter. "You had no one to talk to about all of this for so long. Talk to me, sweetie. You're not alone anymore."

I've never opened up to my mother. When it came to my emotions, I always brought them to my grandma. She handled them with a certain care that my mother always lacked. But now, years of heartbreak pour from my lips and tears drip along her cheeks. I tell her everything, including the way Grayson is Walter's opposite.

Horrible experiences bring people together. As much as I wish I never put up with Walter's shit, it led to this moment. One where a mother and her daughter finally see each other.

Hours have ticked by, and we steer off topic to more simple things. She tells me about drama she overhears in the gym locker room and then I tell her how Elliot proposed to Sarah. We bond and laugh, and later into the night, she says, "I think I like Grayson."

"Yeah?" I grin.

She nods. "He looks familiar," she says. I shrug, but she doesn't see because her thoughtful gaze is on the window facing his house. She yawns and it's contagious. I look at my alarm clock, realizing it's just past midnight.

"Goodnight, sweetie," she says when she follows my line of sight. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."