Chapter 20

TWENTY

I hold my breath and tug on the front door, only briefly getting a glance of my reflection in the sparkling clean glass door, but in a flash, it's gone.

The buzzing sound of the studio immediately floods my ears, replacing the busy sounds of the city traffic outside. I stop just inside the door and remove my sunglasses. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust as I stuff the glasses inside my purse and search for my best friend.

"Addy!" Ember's high pitch squeal calls out from across the room. With her arms tucked against her, wearing the largest grin, she shuffles over to me. The squeal never leaves her, even as she wraps her arms around me.

"Ember!" I laugh. "You act like I haven't seen you in weeks. I just saw you yesterday."

Her arms dig into my back, holding me close. Resting her chin on my shoulder, she doesn't let up. "Doesn't matter. I'm glad you showed up."

"I told you I would."

She pulls away, keeping me at arm's length before she tucks my hair behind my ear, and I know exactly what she's thinking. She's working to convince me to do a photo shoot today. Unease rests at the pit of my stomach, remembering why I came here today: to support my best friend and watch her in her element.

"I know you did." Her smile fades slightly, her eyes still lit with fire. "But I know it probably wasn't an easy decision."

She's right. It wasn't.

"It's going to be a blast." She bounces on her toes and continues to tuck my hair behind my ear before she traces my jawline. "Fuck. Do you remember me telling you that you had the cheekbones of a model?"

I roll my eyes and groan. "Yes."

"Well, I would just like to point out how smart I was back then." She shakes her head in admiration. "Because I was fucking right, and your face hadn't even fully matured all those years ago."

"Stop." I hitch the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder.

"I'm just saying." She shrugs innocently.

I dart my eyes over her shoulder toward the staging area. "So, what's going on today?"

"Oh…" She flips her strawberry blonde hair when she turns back to face me. "Small photoshoot for a local makeup company centered here in Boston. They hired me to do the makeup for their ads that they're going to use in their first storefront."

"Wow." I smile.

A warmth spreads and fills my chest. I won't lie, seeing the white backdrop surrounded by lights and photographers pulls me back into the life I left behind in LA. It's a mixture of emotions, with a haunting feeling dominating a small glimpse of the dream I once had.

Various types of makeup and hairstyling tools are littered across the stations, all organized and glinting under the bright lights of Ember's studio.

"This is your studio?" I ask Ember in awe.

"Yep." She plants her hands on her hips and looks around. She keeps the makeup brush she carried over with her wrapped up in her long fingers. "I don't always have photoshoots here, but for the smaller companies that hire me, I offer it to them. It's great, isn't it?" She scrunches her nose, giggling with pride.

"It's wonderful." I grin.

"Come on." She grabs my hand, pulling me further inside. "I'll show you around and introduce you."

After Ember shows me around her small studio and introduces me to the crew and makeup company's team, I sit in one of the chairs set up for the models. Ember walks to each of the model's chairs, inspecting her assistants' work.

"Oh, my God." The blonde model sitting in the chair beside me presses her hand to her cheek, with her jaw dropped. Ember's assistant is working on her contouring, forcing the model to talk to me through her reflection in the mirror. I avoid letting myself look into the mirror in front of me, instead focusing on the blonde model through hers. She grips onto the wooden arms of her seat with her eyes widened. "You're Adeline Mayfield."

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. "Hi," I say, giving her a small smile.

"I followed yours and your mom's careers all my life." She beams, her voice reaching an excited pitch. "You're the model who made me want to be a model."

"That's very sweet of you. Thank you. What's your name?"

"Merit." She smiles. "This is only my second photoshoot, but I'm hoping it will build up my portfolio to pitch to agencies."

"Everyone starts out somewhere."

"Right." She sits back in her chair and closes her eyes. The makeup artist working on her sweeps a brush across her face, blending in her contour. "Are you taking pictures for the campaign also?"

I open my mouth to object, when Ember sidles up beside me.

"Yeah, Addy," she teases, digging her elbow into my shoulder. "Are you in the campaign, too?"

"I wasn't planning on it." I wince, nervously looking up at Ember. When she doesn't let up on her grin, I narrow my eyes, kicking myself for not being more prepared to resist her persistence.

"Not to put any pressure on you," Merit says, "but it would be amazing if I could say I did a photoshoot with the Adeline Mayfield."

Her admiration warms my heart, but I don't feel like I deserve it. As with any creative field, I've battled with imposter syndrome. I'm no stranger to adoration of fans. I watched my mother get it all through my childhood. But me… I don't feel like I deserve it.

I give Merit a smile through the reflection in her mirror.

"Maybe next time," Ember answers for me.

I sigh with relief, thankful Ember didn't press me in front of Merit.

Ember stays standing beside me while her assistant finishes up Merit's base makeup, taking over to do her eyes and lips. I sit and watch, occasionally pulling out my phone to check for text messages from Micah.

I have one sitting on my screen, unread. I click on it and immediately blush.

Sitting here in my old office, imagining you bent over my desk, wearing nothing but my blue tie resting between those supple breasts. I can't decide which part of you I'd want to fuck first. Your tits or that delicious pussy of yours.

"Holy shit, I'm going to need to splash some cold ass fucking holy water on my face after reading that text."

I snap my head up and see Ember standing over me.

Merit isn't in her seat any longer. She's moved over to the hair station on the other side of the studio. It's just Ember and me now.

Still, fiery hot heat engulfs the length of my body. Ember's eyes are bugging out of her head and her jaw has dropped lower than I've ever seen on her before.

I shut the screen to my phone and drop it into my lap. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"I didn't mean to spy," she says, unable to wipe the grin off her face. "But I had to know what text it was that got you smiling like that." She waves her brush in the air like a wand. "I can't remember the last time I saw you this happy."

I rest my elbow on the arm and cover my face with my hand, too embarrassed to look at my best friend. I hear her take a seat next to me—the one Merit was sitting in. The wood creaks under her weight. She taps my knee, and I slowly remove my hand from my face.

"Was that Micah?" she asks, clearly stunned.

I tuck my bottom lip under my teeth and scrunch my nose. "Yes."

"Oh, my God." She puffs out her chest and rocks back in her seat as if the wind has been knocked out of her. It reminds me of our summers spent at the pool, when she'd come running over to me, giggling with excitement and gushing that Teddy, her secret crush, had glanced in her direction.

"I can't believe this," she whispers as she sucks in a breath, then leans forward. "Are you sleeping with Micah?"

I snap my mouth shut and simply give her a look.

She gasps, and I fight the urge to laugh. She's right, though. I am happy.

"When?" she blurts out. "How?"

I shrug, thinking back to when Micah gave in the night of Ember's birthday, but knowing it didn't start then. It's been a slow build, and if I think about it, I don't know exactly when it began. My feelings for Micah have always been locked inside a vault, but at some point, Micah cracked the safe.

"I don't know." I blow out a heavy breath. "It just kind of happened."

"Just kind of happened?" Ember presses both her hands to her cheeks before she holds her hand out, pointing to my phone. "Sleeping with Micah Harding doesn't just happen ."

"It's a long story." I look around at the dozens of people buzzing in Ember's studio. I don't mind having this conversation with my best friend. In fact, now that I'm with her, I think I could use some girl talk. But not here. Part of me wants to keep what's going on between Micah and me between us.

"We don't have to talk about it right now." Ember senses my hesitancy. "But we definitely should meet for drinks. I have a feeling I'm going to need one. Especially if he's been sending you texts like that." Her eyes widen. "I can only imagine how he is in bed."

"Ember!" I scold, embarrassment still consuming me.

"I'm only teasing." She winks and then her smile fades, her face turning serious. "Does Archer know?"

"No." I shake my head. "We haven't been talking very much lately. And anyway, I'm a little upset at him." I swallow thickly. "He told our dad I was back."

"What the fuck?" Ember huffs. "You've talked to him?"

"Micah caught him scaling the fence in the backyard. I was working in the garden when he showed up, and I went in the house before I could hear what they were talking about. But Micah told me he'd said Archer had been the one who told him. I think he was there to see me. And buy pills from Micah."

"He doesn't still sell, does he?" Ember asks, worry etched into her brow.

"No." I shake my head, confident in my answer. I have no reason to believe Micah would take that risk. Not after he shared his experience with me. I see how happy he is now and know he wouldn't want to risk losing it all for the sake of selling drugs again.

"Good." Ember gives a small smile. "Hopefully, you don't run into your father again."

"I hope not." I feel tears sting the back of my eyes. "I almost thought about leaving, but… I don't know." I shrug, looking around before landing back on Ember's kind eyes. "There's something about where I am that makes me feel safe."

Ember gives me a closed-mouth smile.

"Ember." One of the photographers steps up to us and leans in. "Sorry to interrupt, but we're ready to start."

"Perfect." Ember bounces out of her seat and slips between our chairs but stops before she joins the rest of the crew. "Are you sure you don't want me to style you? We could do a quick, small shoot."

I look over Ember's shoulder, watching Merit sit down on the single barstool set in front of the white backdrop. She's unmoving in her seat, patiently waiting for Ember to join her and make a last few finishing touches to her makeup. My palms sweat, and I inhale a shaky breath, wrapping my hand around my phone still in my lap.

"Not today." I tilt my head, focusing back on my best friend. "I think Merit deserves this day all to herself."

Ember glances over her shoulder. When she turns back, she's wearing a smile. She softly nods. "If you change your mind…" She wags her brush back and forth before backing away.

I respond to Micah's text before following my best friend and joining her.

Watching Merit's photoshoot is more enjoyable than I expect it to be, and by the time she's finished, my chest feels a little lighter. I realize my love for this world isn't completely gone or diminished.

The joy on Merit's face gives me a boost—one that reminds me why I fell in love with this profession. Somewhere inside me is still the little girl who would sneak into my mother's vanity and steal her lipstick.

Once the photoshoot finishes, I chat with Merit before saying goodbye to Ember and her team.

While hitching my purse over my shoulder and heading toward the front door, I'm texting Ray a message to let him know I'm done and plan to meet him out front when I slam into a wall. Well, it isn't so much a wall as it is a person.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I yelp, grabbing onto the woman's arm, steadying both of us.

Three gold bangles jingle on her wrist, and a distinctive sapphire diamond ring is wrapped around her index finger.

One I recognize.

It pulls at my memory, and it takes everything I have to gather the strength to look her in the face. Slowly, my eyes move up the length of her arm, then up her neck before they land on her all-too gorgeous smile.

"Mom." I swallow.

She tilts her head to the side and relaxes her shoulders. Lifting her hand, she runs the back of her index finger down the side of my face. "My Addy girl."

I cringe, jerking away and giving her a scowl. "What are you doing here?"

"Well." She licks her lips and flips her long, wavy brown hair with her hand, flashing her signature smile. The one she gives when she's trying to come across as confident. Inside I know she's uncertain about seeing me. "I heard Ember had a studio, and I wanted to come by and see it. Actually, I was going to ask her about you."

She pulls me in for a hug. Her long, thin arms wrap around me, tugging me without waiting for an invitation, my arms pinned at my side. She's warm and familiar. I look over her shoulder, searching for Ember, but I don't see her. She must still be hiding in the back.

"I was just leaving," I mumble.

She releases me. Her fingertips play with the ends of my hair before she finally let's go. "I've been worried about you."

"Have you?" I ask, tilting my head with narrowed eyes.

"Yes." She blinks. A small humorless laugh escapes her. "Of course, I have. You're my daughter, Addy. Your father and I will always worry about you."

"You know, I haven't been home in three years, but I already know at least one thing hasn't changed." I bite back the tears threatening to spill at the sight of my mother standing in front of me. "You're still lying for him."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Addy."

I close my eyes. "Stop calling me Addy."

"Fine." She sighs the moment I open my eyes. "Adeline."

I try to stand my ground and not allow my mother to see my emotions—it's never worked for me in the past—but I can't help it. Seeing my mother brings back every memory. All the times she would tuck me in at night. All the times I felt her fingers in my hair as she braided it before dance class. All the times she sat across from me at the dinner table in silence while my father yelled at me, telling me how pathetic I was. The times I'd come home from school wearing makeup, only for him to slap me across the face before telling me to wash it off because I looked like a whore. Seeing my mother standing at the end of the hallway. Silent.

While I've felt my mother's warm touch and loving embrace, it's only ever been empty displays of affection.

"The entire time," I manage to say, swallowing back the emotion threatening to spill over. "The entire time, you never spoke up. You never said a word."

"I've told you before." Her voice is soft and calm. "He was never like that with me. Your father is a good man."

"Just stop." I raise my voice. "Don't you see how fucked up that sounds?"

Her eyes widen and she takes a step back, clearly wounded by my words and my sudden change in tone. But I'm tired of pretending with my mother, dancing around the shards of glass laying at our feet, preventing us from growing closer to understanding one another.

"Your father loves you," she reassures me.

I want to scream and yell. I want to kick my feet and pull my fucking hair out.

"You say it so casually as if it makes everything okay. As if I'm supposed to accept that his love will override everything he ever did. And if he does love me as you say, well, he had a great way of showing it." I grind my teeth together, almost certain they're going to crack. "And so did you."

"I took care of you, Addy-" She clears her throat, wiping her hair away from her face. " Adeline ." Her bracelets clank against one another. "I did everything I could to give you the best life possible."

"And you also stood by and did absolutely nothing!" I cry. I can't help it. The feelings I have for my mother are complex and difficult to reconcile. The anger and hatred I have for my father is clear. Every breath I drew was one he resented. With him, he's easy to hate.

But it's difficult to love someone who took care of you, loved you, and nurtured you from birth. The one where when you look into their eyes, you see your own. But they also stood by and basked in their complicity, all while you were left wondering why they never had the courage to stand up for you.

No. Those feelings are much more difficult to reconcile.

A tear spills from my eye, and I'm quick to wipe it away.

My mother's gaze softens again—her empty way of consoling me.

"There's nothing I could have done." She nervously sweeps her tongue across her red-painted lips. Her chin trembles, and for once I see her show emotion. Like her heart isn't completely surrounded by armor made of steel. "I did the best I could with what I had. With both you and Archer."

Her mention of Archer sparks something inside me. Like the far off look in her eyes tells me there's deeper meaning behind her statement.

I pity her, and the longer I stand here in front of her, the more I feel sad for her. The sadness clings to the warmth I feel from her. Staining it and dying it with frigid, black darkness.

She reaches out, and with her shaking hand, grabs onto mine. "I'm proud of you, Adeline. You've turned out better than I could have ever hoped for."

"How so? I haven't talked to you in months, Mom."

"Your modeling." A tiny smile tugs on her lips. "I've seen your comp card. So beautiful."

My eyebrows pull together. "You saw my comp card?"

"Well, yes." She blinks. "Of course, I have."

"How did you see my comp card?" My comp card contains all my info and the best images I've taken throughout my modeling career, along with my stats. The only ones who see them are me, my manager, and any modeling agency or firm when I send it to them in hopes of hiring me.

I never sent it to her.

When it finally clicks who, the blood drains from my head down to my feet.

"Maddox sent it to me months ago," my mother finally explains, casually and nonchalant, without consequence.

"Maddox?"

"Of course." Her dark brown hair shines in the light pouring through the front of Ember's studio. Her sunglasses rest on top of her head, pulling back her long waves. "Ever since you and Maddox began dating, I've gotten to know him very well. He calls me several times a week. He told me what happened between you two."

I want to vomit.

Bile fills my throat, and I bite my tongue, holding back my gag. I feel sick.

"What did he say happened?"

"That you had an argument over some little misunderstanding." She flicks her hand. "He said he mistook your photographer for someone else, and when he confronted you, it sparked a little spat between you both."

"That's what he told you?"

"Yes. You really shouldn't make such big fusses about these things. Maddox admitted it was all a misunderstanding and said you overreacted, and I agree." She nods, pressing her mouth into a thin line. "Coming out here and everything. You can't run from your problems, Adeline."

Tears cloud my vision. "You have no clue what you're talking about." I inhale an unsteady breath, forcing myself to regain my bearings. "I'm not going back."

"Oh, sweetie." She pouts, frowning and looking at me with sympathy. "Your father told me you were staying with Micah Harding. Considering who he is, I'm guessing you're well taken care of living with him. But this won't be forever. I told Maddox maybe to give you some time, and that staying with Micah wouldn't be permanent."

A chill trickles down the length of my spine.

If Maddox knows I'm staying with Micah, he isn't as dismissive about it as my mother is making him out to be.

I gasp for air, forcing the oxygen to fill my lungs as the room spins. "You told him I was staying with Micah?"

She shrugs. "I didn't think it was a big deal. I figured he already knew, since you told him you were getting away to visit family and take a few months off work to regroup. You've found a good one with Maddox. Don't let him get away, sweetie."

I curl my hands into fists and force the tears to stop. I close my eyes and inhale another deep breath, refusing to let my thoughts run away with me. I refuse to let my mother undo the past few months.

It's as if her mere presence and the sound of her voice has pulled me back to three years ago. My parents let me go without resistance. They didn't ask if I needed support or a hand. They simply let me go. My father held the door open, and my mother gave me a hollow hug disguised behind her soft, soothing words telling me how proud she was of the woman I had become.

I used to think my mother wanted me to follow in her footsteps, to take on the dream she lost when she brought me into this world. But when she loosened her arms around me, I saw the altered sense of reality she lived in. The one where she didn't see me for who I was. She only saw herself.

I wipe the wet tears from my eyes and open them to see her still in front of me. Over her shoulder, I see Ray pull up along the curb.

"I love you, Mom," I tell her, swallowing down all the words I wish I could say knowing she wouldn't hear any of them. This is the way our relationship has to be. My heart breaks, wishing we could be different. I wish my mother was able to push her love for my father aside to see the scars they've both left on my heart, but I know it won't happen. Love can be unconditional, but sometimes love can also be foolish.

"I love you, too, Adeline." She grins, the smile reaching her eyes briefly before disappearing.

"You deserve better," I tell her, wrapping my hand around hers. "I hope you know that." I look into her eyes, ones that look like mine, and I see her fractured, beautiful spirit, and find it easy to envision an alternate world where we can be each other's best friend.

I give her hand a gentle squeeze, then I walk out the door without looking back.