Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Forget trying to keep this civil for the sake of avoiding trouble. “Don’t you give me any of that bullshit,” I growl, “or else—”
A sharp gasp startles me into turning around, bringing me face-to-face with my shocked wife. “Aspen…”
She’s not looking at me. I could set myself on fire, and she probably wouldn’t notice right away. Not when she’s staring over my shoulder in horror.
“I knew it was you,” she whispers, and the look of anguish in her eyes is enough to bring me to my knees.
CHAPTER SIX
Aspen
It’s like looking at a ghost. I was so sure she was dead that it might as well be what I’m doing right now. Staring in horror at the ghost of the woman who I used to think was my mom.
That might be true, but ghosts don’t usually look better than they did when they were alive, do they? And she does, for sure. I can’t imagine how much money she spent on the outfit she’s wearing or what’s in her shopping bags. The woman’s husband died in prison, and she hasn’t spoken to the adopted daughter she raised for almost two decades, but she’s swanning around like somebody without a care in the world.
How many nights did I spend crying, wondering what happened to her once she disappeared? Because no, my own mother would never walk away without so much as hinting she was still alive and making this move of her own free will. That would be too twisted and unforgivable. I couldn’t conceive of it at the time.
When will I finally figure out how determined most people are to be selfish assholes?
“Aspen,” she whispers, and for some reason, that’s what breaks me. The sound of her whispering my name. I’ve heard it so many times and for so many reasons. But it never made me feel the way it does now. Heartbroken. Abandoned.
“How could you do that? How could you? You didn’t even tell me you were still alive. I never would have done that to you.” I’m sure people are looking at us, but I don’t care. “I wouldn’t have tortured you by letting you think I was dead.”
Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish out of water. After a moment, the words spill from her lips. “That’s not how it was.”
“No, that’s exactly how it was. You couldn’t wait to run off and live some big, expensive life. So what if you had a daughter who needed you? Oh, wait,” I add, laughing bitterly. “I’m not really your daughter, now am I? Yeah, I found that out, too. I guess that made it easier for you to forget I ever existed.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Quinton murmurs, taking my arm. I shake him off since I’m not finished yet.
“Don’t worry about it anymore. That’s if you ever did in the first place,” I tell her, and I hate the way my voice shakes. “I don’t need you. I don’t even want you. Enjoy your life.”
I twist on my heels and rush out of the store, not bothering to wait for Quinton. I’m sure I’m attracting attention, almost running past the stores, weaving my way in and out of small groups of people, but I don’t give one single fuck.
She never even told me she was alive. She couldn’t bother to check in on me. I guess once Clyde was dead, she figured I wasn’t her problem anymore.
I feel like my heart’s going to explode. I’m so disappointed in her that I don’t know what to do with the feeling. It’s not like I couldn’t have gone on with my life just fine if I had never seen her here. I’m happy with Q, and I have Charlotte and Lucas now. My birth parents. But dammit, they weren’t the ones who sat up with me when I was sick. They weren’t the ones I went to when I had nightmares as a little girl.
It’s probably crazy, but I pull out my phone with shaking hands and call Lucas. “Hey, I didn’t think I’d hear from you until Christmas,” he greets me, and his warm voice makes the tears I’ve been fighting spill over a little.
Due to the tears in my eyes, I have to stop before I crash into something. I duck alongside one of the little restaurants and lean against the wall, breathing hard. “Did you know?”
“Did I know what?” The warmth is gone, replaced with concern. “What’s wrong? You sound upset. Is everything—”
“Did you know she’s still alive? And very well, living it up in Gstaad?”
“Who?” Then in the next breath, he says, “Oh fuck. You’re kidding. Your other mom is there?”
“Did you know?” I ask accusingly once more.
“I had no idea. You know I’ve looked into it, too. She dropped off the face of the earth. No one could find her.”