Page 14 of Reckless Vow

After I left, my hurt over losing Brook was enough to deal with, and I didn’t assign further blame to anyone else.

Maybe I should have.

Or maybe I should have reached out sooner.

“Me too.” She nods, and it’s unclear what she is referring to. Maybe we both just needed to acknowledge something that doesn’t matter anymore.

She smiles at me and continues. “He’s tenacious and he hasn’t given up yet, so that’s good.”

Or perhaps we’re only talking about the illness and I’m trying to read too much between the lines. Seeking something that isn’t there.

I’m perfectly happy not to dissect the past. Nothing good would come of it.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Mom asks, and this time it’s clear she’s talking about the present, but I fear the past is a part of it.

“It’s a reasonable solution. Why not?”

It’s the least reasonable solution. Perhaps if we were just stepsiblings and nothing else. Not that we are anything else anymore.

“You both call me Mom.” She sums up her reservations.

Brook was little when they moved in with us, and Mom is the only mother she’s ever known. The other Lowe sisters have always called her Bianca, but for Brook she’s been nothing but Mom.

“You didn’t stay in the kitchen to voice your opinion.” I shift in my seat.

She nods, as if acknowledging something, but I’m not sure what. “I interfered once before, and it cost me my son.”

Fuck. That’s about as close to admitting her part in Brook’s decision to stay behind nearly a decade ago as I’ll ever get.

I thought this was already water under the bridge, but Mom’s words open new wounds on top of the old, festering ones.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My jaw is so tense I might crack it. But I won’t fuss over something that no longer matters.

How I’m going to avoid it all while married to Brook is another can of worms, and I’m set on ignoring that one as well.

It’s only a year.

I survived nine years not addressing my hurt—I can plow through twelve more months.

“If you and Brook go through with it, I don’t want Micah to know,” Mom says finally, and it pisses me off all over because again she’s choosing him.

“I don’t see how we can hide that we live together,” I say, instead of all the words I want to hurl at her.

Where did this resentment come from? I guess there isn’t a place deep enough in my soul to bury it without it flooding out the minute I fucking step into this house.

“The doctor cleared him for travel today. We’re leaving for Florida. It’s better for him. To gain strength. Brook is house-sitting for us, so I guess the two of you can live here for the time being.”

I better get used to stepping into the fucking house then.

“If I understand correctly, we need to stay married for a year.”

“We’ll only be gone for a month. We want to return to spend time with Paris’s baby. We can deal with the rest later.” She picks up her book and puts on her glasses.

Am I being dismissed? Is the conversation finished for her?

“That doesn’t seem like the best plan. A month will pass quickly and—”

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