Page 9 of Dare To Live

Until we weren’t.

My cell rings, and I pluck it up off the couch where I tossed it, checking the caller ID before I answer. “Hey, Mom.”

“How are you, sweetheart?” Her voice is warm.

“Busy as always.” Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I walk along the hallway to the spare bedroom and open the door.

“I’m going to go to the Hamptons for Christmas. I was hoping you’d join me?”

My heart stops for a second.

Eli will be there. There’s a moment of temptation as I picture his face, his smile, the feel of his mouth on mine. But then I remember the last time I saw him—at his father’s funeral, where he’d rejected me in front of all the mourners when I’d tried to comfort him.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it.” I flick on the light, and my gaze settles on the pools of rainbow colors spilling out from the stained-glass windows I have positioned around the room.

She sighs. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you change your mind.”

“I thought you’d be staying in New York with your friends. Don’t you usually have parties to attend?”

“I decided I wanted something quieter this year.”

Walking over to my workbench, I eye the half-finished piece on the smooth wooden surface. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“No. No, of course not.”

My brows knit together. “You’d tell me if there was?”

“Of course, I would. I just miss having you and Eli around.”

A twinge of guilt jabs me. “I’ll come and see you at Easter, I promise.”

My mom is silent for a beat. “It would be nice to spend time with both of you.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, but that isn’t possible.” Saying those words out loud causes a dull ache inside me. “We just didn’t work out.”

“I know,” she replies softly. “After everything that happened, you had to deal with things in your own ways.”

My gaze moves over the image I’ve been putting together with the colored glass. A beautiful broken angel with wings spread and a handsome face looking up from the shadows where he dwells to the sky above.

“I’m not sure either of us ever got over it.” The buzz of my doorbell snaps me from my thoughts of Eli. “I have to go. There’s someone at the door.”

“I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

“You don’t need to keep checking up on me.”

She laughs. “Of course, I do. I’m your mother, and I’m not giving up on you coming to the Hamptons.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Bye, Mom.”

I end the call, and hurry from the room to answer the door. A quick check through the peephole shows me a familiar face. I open the door.

“Miles, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to apologize for the other night, and for the way Ivan sprung those sketches on us.” He holds up the bottle in his hand. “I brought wine. Pinot Noir from Ivan’s collection.”

My brows raise, and I step back. “Come in.”

He waits until I’ve closed the door to speak again. “I’m really sorry, Bella. If I’d had any idea, I would have warned you. I should have told you what the artist’s name was sooner.”

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