Because you went and fell in love, idiot.
When the steady ache in my chest eventually subsided, I hoped I’d see the experience for what it was—a good period in my life where I discovered things about myself because of him. And maybe when I started dating again— No, abort. Abort. The idea of being with anyone else curled my stomach. Skylar was the only one I wanted.
I pushed the button for the elevator, brightening a smidgen because I supposed it could’ve been much worse. At least I still had Skylar’s friendship, something I’d lost so many years ago and had finally gotten back. Mom had nearly ruined this for me as well, and I hadn’t gotten over my anger yet. I didn’t know the exact words I would be saying to her once I composed myself enough, or how it would shape our future relationship—what was left of it. This might’ve been the last straw. In the meantime, I’d buried myself in so many appointments, I was hardly at the office at all this week.
But I definitely had my weaker moments, where I wanted to beg Skylar to come over after work—or the other scenario I’d conjured, where I’d show up at the Playground and wait for him. For what exactly, I didn’t know. Seeing him dance while other men ogled him would kill me, especially when I knew he wasn’t mine.
Thankfully, I still had some sense in my head to nip the idea in the bud.
As I walked into the conference room and saw only my parents in attendance, I nearly balked. “What is this about?”
“We have some things to discuss with you,” Dad said.
Mom could barely look me in the eye, and I knew she felt guilty about what had transpired at the party, but I couldn’t find any sympathy in me where she was concerned. She’d been wrong, plain and simple, and being summoned like this only exacerbated that ball of fury lodged in my gut.
“I don’t have time for this right now. I need to—”
“Have a seat, Clark,” Dad said in a forceful tone I rarely heard from him, and it made me sink down in the nearest chair like I was twelve and in trouble.
“I know you’re busy, and I also know you’ve been avoiding us, but this is about business,” he said, and I exhaled. Okay, fine. Bring it. “We’ve been considering the idea of you overseeing the new office.”
My pulse throbbed against my throat. “And?” I held my breath and avoided Mom’s eyes. No way I’d let her make me feel uncomfortable for asking for something that would help me grow, not only in my career, but personally as well.
“It turns out we think it’s a good idea,” Dad said, and my gaze sprang to his. “Mr. Whitney would like you to meet him for the groundbreaking on Friday.”
I cleared my throat as emotions welled up. Holy fuck. I thought my mom would’ve put up more of a fight about it, but she should’ve seen this coming. I couldn’t remain under her thumb forever. Unless…
“Is this some sort of peace offering?” I scoffed. “If so, it’s pretty misguided, considering—”
“I’d say it’s more like an epiphany,” Dad said with a wink. “Maybe hear your mom out.”
When Dad left the room, I wanted to flee as well, but I stayed put, knowing it was time to get this conversation over with. The air grew so thick, I thought I might choke as I waited for my mom to say something. Instead, she kept straightening the papers on the table in front of her and fidgeting in her seat, which was so unlike her. Finally, she said, “Remember the story of how we’d almost lost you during childbirth?”
I swallowed thickly. It was a story I knew well, but it hadn’t been brought up in years. Apparently, my heart rate had dropped so dramatically, they’d had to perform an emergency C-section to save me. “Yes, of course.”
“Did you know that before and after you were born we tried for years to have another child, but it always resulted in a miscarriage?”
I shook my head, not having been privy to those details, just that Mom couldn’t have any more children. Seemed she was feeling nostalgic, otherwise why bring this up now? But I kept my guard up. If this was another guilt tactic, I was out of there.
She smiled sadly. “One night when I was tucking you into bed—you were maybe three years old—I promised myself that after such a tumultuous relationship with my own mother, I’d protect you at all costs, especially because you were my only baby.”
“Mom—”
She held up her hand. “Please, let me finish.”
I stayed quiet, fighting with myself because I didn’t know where she was going with this. But I hadn’t seen Mom look quite this way very often—awkward and sheepish.
“Now, I know you’ll say there’s a difference between protecting and meddling, and I agree I’ve blurred that line over the years.”
I arched a brow. “More than once.”
“More than once,” she admitted. “I honestly didn’t grasp how much pulling you from gymnastics would affect you—or still would. I was just being Super Mom and placing all my hopes and dreams and expectations on you, which wasn’t fair. I thought I’d handle things differently with my own child, but as it turns out, I wasn’t doing much better.”
I felt the weight of that proclamation like a heavy coat on my shoulders. Logically, I knew it had originated from a good place, then changed into something really uncomfortable—for both of us, it seemed.
“But,” she continued, “the time has come to own up to my failures. To let go and trust you to make your own decisions.” She sat up straighter, like it’d taken courage for her to say that. “I know you’re disappointed in me.”
I could feel my fingers trembling as I pointed at her. “What you did the other night…it was plain mean, and they didn’t deserve that. They were nothing but kind.”
“For not even knowing they were invited, I was perfectly pleasant in return,” she countered, as if that somehow excused her later behavior.
I narrowed my eyes. “Until you weren’t.”
“You’re right. I didn’t expect you to hear me.” Her shoulders slumped. “I regret that.”
My gut churned with disillusionment. “You regret being heard but not saying the words?”
“No, of course not. I’m ashamed of how I acted.” She flushed and looked away. “You’ve made me realize that how I’ve conducted myself lately…is slowly pushing you away.” Her voice turned shaky as if she were on the verge of tears. “And if I lose you in the process, I suppose I deserve it.”
There it finally was—some modicum of true remorse. And though I was glad to hear it, it did nothing to assuage the melancholy I felt over it all.
“You’re not going to lose me, Mom.” I sighed. “But it’ll definitely make me think twice about what I share with you.” Not that I wasn’t already careful around her. Though maybe if I’d shared more, it might’ve helped her understand what made Skylar so special. But I had a feeling she wouldn’t have given him a chance regardless. “The thing that gets me is you passed judgment without even knowing them. His mom is nice and funny. And Skylar, well…he’s a great person. And a good friend. And he’s made me see different sides of myself that I’d never considered before.” I made a frustrated sound. “You snub your nose at him because he works at a bar, but who are you to judge? He’s an amazing gymnast and dancer, and he designs clothes; some of his creations are really good.”