Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Honey, that was our money—”
I don’t know why I’m starting this now of all times, but I can’t help myself.
“You took it and you disappeared,” I say over her, giving in to my anger. “And you know what hurts the most? Ever since you two moved to Florida, you’ve been so much happier. Without me.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “You think it’s like that?” she asks softly.
“That’s how it feels. You screwed me into taking out huge student loans, abandoned me, and the worst part is, you’ve both been so much better off. What is it about me that makes your life so hard?” I bite down on my lip to keep from crying. I can’t screw up my makeup, not when I have an interview, which I should be heading inside for right about now.
Mom’s silent for a long pause. I hear her take a sip of wine before she answers. “It was never you, honey. It was never, ever about you. I love you, Fiona. Maybe it doesn’t feel that way right now, but I do. You were so, so hard as a little kid, but I wouldn’t go back to change a single thing. It’s only that, your father and I both gave up a lot to be parents, and one day we realized that time was rushing past, our lives were leaking away, and we weren’t going to get anything back. It was either do something drastic or lose the chance. I wish I had done this earlier, when I was still your mom, you know? Maybe you could’ve come along for the ride, but it’s hard when you’re a parent. There’s so much fear.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. “You’re happier now though? Without me?”
“Not without you,” she says firmly. “I’m happier doing what brings me joy though. I know all of this quadrople and swinging stuff is really weird. You think I don’t know? This whole thing’s been so bizarre, but so fun and good. It’s the happiest your father and I have been in a while, only I wish I could share it with you. That’s why I force myself to talk about it. But it’s too weird, right?”
“That’s why you tell me about it?” I blink in surprise. I always assumed she talked about it because she was selfish—but could she really be trying to keep me in her life? By oversharing?
“What, you think I like talking to my daughter about my sex life? God, Fiona, it’s mortifying, but I miss you, and I love you, and I want to share my life with you as much as I can. I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty mom lately. I know I haven’t been there when you needed me. I promise I’ll try to be better. But please, honey, listen to me, if you learn anything from my stupid mistakes, learn this. Do the things that make you feel good. After years of compromise, that’s what I figured out. No more compromise. I want you to do the same, okay? Find your joy. Don’t be scared of it, no matter how strange. No more compromise.”
I nod, even though she can’t see it. “I miss you, Mom. I even miss Dad. Tell him to call me sometime.”
She laughs. “I will, but you know your father.”
“Man of no words.”
“Exactly. But he’ll call, I promise.” She clears her throat. “I love you, Fiona. I love you so much. No more compromises, okay?”
“I love you too, Mom.” I let out a breath. “I’ve got to go. I have a job interview.”
“Really? Where?”
“A climbing company called Appalachian Peaks.”
“Are you excited for it?”
“I’m really excited,” I say, grinning to myself. “It’s like a dream job, honestly.”
“Then go in there and kill it. I love you. Good luck.”
“Bye, Mom.”
I hang up, standing in the silence, getting myself together. I do some breathing exercises to calm down, centering myself.
No more compromises.
I’m happy Mom called. I’m not going to forgive her anytime soon—she’s got a lot of work to do before I trust her to be a decent mother again—but knowing she’s telling me all this gross stuff because she misses me actually kind of helps. I feel like I know her better now, and she makes more sense.
No more compromises. I kind of like that as a mantra.
And not going into this interview, not going after a job I know would be like a dream—
That would be a compromise.
I steel myself. Raise my chin in the air.
And march toward that office, ready to slay.
Chapter 39
Gareth
The cork pops from the bottle and I pour two glasses. “Congratulations,” I say, grinning as Fiona takes her drink. “I knew you’d get it.”
I toast her and pour a long swallow down my throat, stomach a bubbling mess of conflicting emotions. I keep it to myself.