“Don’t use that tone with me, young man,” she fires, her voice acid. All that’s missing is an, “I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it.” But that’s not actually Mom’s style at all.
I don’t say anything, because nothing I say will be the right thing at this point. I’ve apologized, I’ve let her know what’s going on, and that’s really all I can do.
When she remains silent, I sigh. “Alright, well, that’s what I wanted to let you know. I’ll be around to get my things later this week, because I’ll be moving in with Alexis. Talk to you soon.” And I hang up before she can say anything.
I always thought both of my brothers were overreacting a little bit to the way our mom acted when they both started serious relationships. And I thought her point of view was at least a little bit understandable. She didn’t want them to get taken advantage of, and Gabby and Lauren, as much as I like them both, don’t come from the same background we do. Jonathan was gaining traction and fame and Mom worried that Gabby would be a distraction or somehow convince him to give up that life to pursue a quieter life with her. That’s not the way it worked out, but I didn’t think her concern was unfounded. It’s no secret that she’s always been invested in our success and wanted what was best for us, even if sometimes the way she went about it was less than savory.
To be fair, though, Mom eventually came around when it was clear that Gabby helped Jonathan and supported him completely. Of course that was after Jonathan stopped talking to her for several months.
With Brendan, since he and Lauren eloped, what parent wouldn’t be upset about being left out of their child’s wedding day? And so I knew she wouldn’t be happy about my news.
But it wasn’t until Brendan brought Lauren home after they were married that Mom got really nasty to her. And then Brendan cut off contact for a while. They’re only just this last year making an effort to participate in family holidays. Even so, Christmas was an awkward affair.
Now that it’s directed at me, though? I’m starting to get more of an idea of what my brothers went through. And after the hell Alexis has been through—between the accident, her band falling apart, and getting her name dragged through the mud—I don’t want to subject her to more negativity. She doesn’t need that.
I don’t either, to be honest.
And even though I know I’m just delaying the inevitable, I’m grateful that I get to deal with my mom and her reactions some other time.
I turn to Alexis with a forced smile and slide my phone into my pocket. “You’re off the hook after all. Mom didn’t have time to talk.”
Alexis doesn’t return my smile. “Are you okay?”
Letting the fake smile drop, I sink back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. “Yeah,” I mutter at last. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I look up and cover the hand she’s laid on the table with mine. “Or at least I will be. My mom … Well, my mom has a complicated relationship with her daughters-in-law. And I’m not the first of her sons to elope. She didn’t take the news well this time either.”
She flips her hand over and squeezes mine back. “I gathered.” She sucks in a deep breath and stands, slipping her hand out from under mine. “At least you only have to make one call.” She gives me a lopsided smile before heading to where our luggage stands next to the bed. “My parents are divorced,” she calls over her shoulder. “So I have to break the news twice.”
I let out a rueful chuckle. “You have my deepest sympathies.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alexis
The calls to my parents go better than I have any right to expect. My mom is understandably upset, but she actually talks to Colt on speaker phone, where he charms her with his schmoozing kung fu. My dad … well, he does the standard protective dad schtick, which would be funny if it weren’t so cringey. Because he’s so wrapped up in his new family that I’ve barely talked to him in the last two years.
But Colt puts up with Dad’s bluster with his usual good nature, sighing and giving me a crooked grin when we finally hang up with them.
When he laces his fingers with mine and brings the back of my hand to his mouth for a soft, affectionate kiss, I realize how sunk I am. How he’s really the only one I have to rely on to help me through this mess.
Which I suppose is fitting since we made the mess together.
“I’d say that went surprisingly well,” he says.
Tossing my phone on the bed next to us, I return his crooked smile with one of my own. “Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t great, but at least they didn’t disown me.”
He laughs and wraps his arm around me. “I don’t think that was ever on the table. My mom, on the other hand …”
I give him a playful shove, which does double duty of putting space between us. Because if he keeps being this affectionate and easy to be around, I’m going to be in big trouble. Plus it’s our wedding night …
Spending my wedding night fully clothed in a platonic relationship isn’t exactly the stuff dreams are made of.
But complicating our already complicated situation still seems like a bad idea. So I stand and grab my suitcase, taking it to the closet so I can hang up my clothes for tomorrow and change into something more comfortable. “I don’t know about you, but after all that food and then the emotional turmoil of the last hour, I think I’m ready to change out of this dress.” I’m careful to keep my voice light and my face hidden, our easy camaraderie turning awkward now that I’ve put this distance between us.
“Alexis …” He says my name like it’s heavy, like he wants to say something or apologize for something.
I pop my head out from around the edge of the open closet and give him a bright smile. “I’m just going to change in the bathroom. Be back out in a few.”
His stare is solemn as he nods once. “I’ll take my turn after you.”
I give him a thumbs up like the giant dork I really am deep down inside then hide in the bathroom. Once the door is closed, I lean my back against it, my clothes and makeup kit bundled in my arms, and let out a deep sigh.
What started out as a brilliant idea to get me more publicity and a better look for the media and my label has turned into something a lot messier and fraught than I could’ve predicted.
I should’ve, though. I mean … what kind of moron am I that I didn’t think telling my agent we were getting engaged was a big deal? That when she declared we needed to elope, I didn’t push back on that? Because, I mean, if we’re so close to promising to marry each other, then that means we’re ready for the whole thing, right?
Except it’s all a farce.
Though the feelings I’m developing for Colt are very, very real. And trying to keep my distance is going to get a lot harder now that we’re going to be sleeping in the same bed and living under the same roof.
It was one thing when we spent half the day together. I still had some time to myself. Some space to myself. Time and space I used to get my head back on straight each night and remind myself of my goals and what’s at stake.