Page 114 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“Your daughter is a credit to your hard work, Ms. Perrington.”

“Please, call me Daphne.”

“Sorry, Daphne. You raised a remarkable woman… self-assured, skilled, and fiercely intelligent. Your parenting has a big part to play in that.”

“And what of your family? Will I get a chance to meet them before the wedding?” Freya stiffens at my side, but I take her hand in mine, assuring her I’m okay.

“Freya is the only family I have. Both of my parents died when I was young, a few years apart. I grew up in the foster system.”

“Then your success is even more impressive. I’ve watched my daughter give everything she has to becoming a surgeon. The fact that you achieved such success in the face of adversity speaks to your character.”

Pride blooms in my chest. “Thank you.”

“I do have to correct you, though. Freya is not your only family. You are going to be part of my family. I always wanted a son. If you’re comfortable with it, maybe one day you’ll call me Mom.”

I don’t know what to say, overwhelmed by her generosity of spirit. I planned to be the picture of strength and dependability this evening, yet I find myself completely disarmed in the presence of a true, maternal figure. It conjures a whisper of the woman I believed my mother to be before she had my father’s blood on her hands.

I clear my throat, swallowing past the lump that forms.

“I can’t wait for you to see the apartment, Mom.” Freya steps in to give me a moment to compose myself. My little one is observant, always looking out for me.

“Yes, I would love for you to see it, Daphne. The place had been lacking since I moved in, but Freya has turned a once cold, functional apartment into our home.”

“It wasn’t cold.” She grimaces. “Not totally.”

Her mother lets out a little laugh as she considers us. “Home isn’t the place, it’s the person.”

“Well, I can honestly say my life was cold before your daughter came into it, shining brighter than the sun. I simply bask in her warmth. A trait I’m sure she gets from you.”

She tilts her head ever so slightly. “You bring it out in her. Freya had a singular mind growing up. She wanted to be a surgeon, and boyfriends weren’t worth her time. I can voice it now…” she says, reaching out to clasp her daughter’s hand, “… that I worried she may not find someone to share her life with.”

“Really?” This is clearly the first Freya is hearing of her mom’s concerns.

“I know what it is to go through life without a partner who understands and can shoulder the burden with you.”

“You made it look so easy.”

“I had you, and that’s all I needed. You made me a better, stronger woman, darling, and I feel so privileged to have watched you grow up into the incredible person you are today. Man, or no man.” She gives me a soft smile. “Though I am thrilled you found a man to love and appreciate your journey so far and yet to come.”

We raise a glass to the future and family, even though the word feels odd on my tongue.

I never imagined that Freya would give me so much more than a submissive to care for. She’s given me love, support, and hope for a future I’d long since given up on. I believed myself too broken to ever be enough for a woman. The fact I found my soulmate just blows my mind.

The rest of dinner is spent in jovial conversation as I probe Daphne for stories of Freya when she was small. I’m promised albums of photographs and happy memories. The things people take for granted—a lifetime of Christmases, birthdays, and other holidays.

When Freya moved in with me, she asked me for pictures to hang on the walls. The look on her face when I told her I don’t have any of me growing up broke my heart. Whatever evidence there was of my dysfunctional family was lost when I got shuffled from place to place. She made it her mission to make new memories worthy of being framed on the walls.

Our friends at Venom now take up space where there was once nothing but vast expanses of cream paint. There is laughter, silliness, candid moments captured, and my favorite—selfies of Freya and me. Fun days in Central Park. A snapshot of victory after saving a patient’s life. She makes the smallest day-to-day moments significant, full of joy and wonder.

By the time the evening comes to an end, I’ve almost convinced myself that I’m good enough for Freya. I’m not too proud to admit she could do better, but a worthier man would have to snatch her from my cold, dead hands. She’s mine, and I’ll ensure it stays that way.

I have my driver take Daphne back to her hotel while Freya and I take a stroll in the cool evening breeze.

“My mom loved you,” she says as she nestles against my side.

“You think?”

“I know. Trust me, she doesn’t hold back if she thinks something, or in this case, someone, is wrong for me. I’d already have been pulled aside and given some sage words of wisdom.”

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