Page 72 of Only Ever You

“We had lunch together over Christmas.”

Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with this woman?

This isn’t the mother I grew up with. She’s angry and twisted. I remember her being so angry at Dad leaving, especially when I made it clear I wouldn’t be back.

He let her keep the house—in his mind it was tainted by her actions anyway. It was him who worked himself to the bone in the years that followed until his early death.

“Here.” She hands me a photo. I roll my eyes before looking at it—only for my whole world to fall apart.

There’s Pippa, sitting at lunch with her brother and my mother. Lucas is studying Pippa closely while her hands are up in the air—animated as if she’s telling a story.

My stomach falls.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because you’re my son, and you deserve better than to be lied to.”

“That’s a bit rich coming from you,” I mumble. My jaw tics. Lucas and Pippa did go out together that day and came back later than expected. Why didn’t she say anything?

I thought our relationship was worth more than this.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But it’s time for me to come clean. I’ll go now. I doubt you want me hanging around.”

Before I can say anything else, she gets up and walks out.

She’s dropped her bomb and now she flits away without a care in the world.

This is twelve years ago all over again.

My chest tightens, and I feel like I’m thrown back in time.

Pippa knows how I felt back then—she knows how I feel now about my mother. Why would she hide this from me?

There’s so much noise in my head and I can’t get any of it to quieten down.

I need to get out of here.

There’s no way I can leave tonight. I’m in no state to drive. But there is a private plane waiting to whisk us away on our honeymoon.

After picking up my mobile, I call the jet pilot. “Deacon Miller here. I want to know if we can change the time of the flight tomorrow.”

There’s a pause. “I can check. What time were you thinking?”

“10:00 a.m.?”

“I’ll call you back.”

When he calls a half hour later to confirm, I sink into the couch, whiskey in my hand, and smile.

To hell with the Chapman family.

God, it hurts so much to think that—they were nothing but welcoming over Christmas. But if Pippa knew, I’d put money on them all knowing.

Were they laughing behind my back?

No. They’re good people. I’m sure if they kept it quiet, it was for Lucas’s sake. They wouldn’t want to rock the boat.

But it also means none of them were honest with me.

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