Page 79 of Fire

But I’m tired of swallowing my thoughts to avoid hard conversations.

“I upended my life because I wasn’t happy with Julian. He…” Where do I even start to make her understand?

“Julian provided a lovely life for you and your daughter, Ivy.” I don’t know if Mom’s trying to convince me of that, or herself as well. “He’s a good man.”

“That depends on your definition of good, I guess. He made me feel like I could never do anything right. Like I had to walk on eggshells around him. Like I couldn’t survive without him. Like he was the only reason I’m a functioning adult.”

It feels so good to say these things. Sure, I’ve said them to Grandma, but only after she helped me to see how true they are. Talking to Mom about it feels like I’m finally owning it. Finally taking responsibility. Finally starting to grow out of that poor broken girl I was into the strong woman I want to be.

“Ivy…” Mom sighs. “I didn’t want the conversation to come to this, but with all due respect, you couldn’t survive without him. You’re too much like me. Where would you be without Julian?”

Woah. Okay then. I wasn’t expecting that. Not from her.

“Then what am I doing now, Mom?” I ask, heading inside the house because suddenly the sun is too bright and the wind is too strong. “I’m not with him and I seem to be handling everything pretty well.”

“But are you handling things well? Or are you leaning on someone else and letting him do it for you?”

I look around the kitchen, filled with things that aren’t mine, then turn in place, taking in the living room, the pool outside the windows. I’m not as on my own as I’d like, but I have a job. A voice. My situation with Micah is nothing like when I was with Julian.

“It’s complicated,” I say, pacing from the wall of windows in the kitchen to the stairs.

“It isn’t, though. You use people, Ivy. I love you to pieces, but you were more than happy to let your father support you and Nell until you met Julian. And then you were just as happy to let him support you until you got tired of him and moved on to my mother. And now? You’re back with Micah, living in his house, doing the same thing all over again.”

I freeze, frowning, my knuckles white as I grip the stair rail. “How do you know I’m living with Micah?”

“Did you really think your dad would be okay, not knowing where you are? As soon as Julian got your address, we looked the house up. When it was clear you couldn’t afford a place like that on your own, we did some digging. It wasn’t hard to find out who owned the place and honestly Ivy, I was so disappointed. Micah? Really? After everything he did to you…”

“I don’t know what to say to that, Mom. I really don’t.” I run a trembling hand through my hair. “Wait. Yes, I do know what to say. I’m a grown woman and you need to respect my boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Mom scoffs, like the very idea is ridiculous. “We’re worried about you, Ivy. You threw everything good away. You spat in the face of the man who loves you. Embarrassed your father and me. And now, you’re back with the man who ruined your life.”

“Micah didn’t ruin my life.”

“Why are you a receptionist for a psychologist instead of an actual psychologist?”

I can’t believe she has the nerve to ask that question. She knows I didn’t have a choice.

“Because I had Nell and didn’t have the time to go to school. Dad—”

“And you had Nell because…”

I’ve never heard Mom so declarative. I don’t know how to handle this version of her.

“Because Micah and I made a mistake.” My grip on the phone tightens. “Plenty of people make the same mistake and—”

“But he’s living his life without consequence.”

“That’s because he didn’t know! He didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“How convenient for him.”

I explain the situation, my voice rising as years’ worth of pent-up frustration and fear jolts to the surface. “He never saw my texts, Mom.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that story.” She sounds so much like Julian. I hate it. I hate hearing her sound like that. Judgmental. Hateful. Condescending. “If he wasn’t going to have a phone, don’t you think the first thing he should have done was tell you?”

“He swears he texted me, but somehow I didn’t see those messages.” I bite off my words, angry now. “Dad was monitoring my phone like a hawk back then and I was so stressed out all the time because of it. Maybe I missed Micah’s messages. Or maybe he’s lying and never sent them. Or maybe, I don’t know…” I wave a hand through the air, searching for maybes, and grab the first one I find. “Maybe Dad deleted the message!”

My jaw drops. Maybe Dad deleted the message…

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