Page 97 of Obsessed Heir

“Leave the bottle on the bar and take a break.”

“Very well, sir,” he says, not even blinking at my directive. He backs up then turns to walk away.

“Lock the door on your way out, would you?” I add as an afterthought. “This is a private conversation.”

“Of course.”

Mother watches him leave before she gives a faint shake of her head.

“That wasn’t necessary,” she says, returning to a semblance of her regular self.

I pick up a spoon, offering it to her. “Maybe I wanted to spend some time alone with my mother.”

Her gaze meets mine. The years fall away, I’m at home, telling her my dream of making my fortune on my own while she fixes us sundaes.

You’re just like your father…

Only back then, she didn’t say it like it was a bad thing. I dig in to my own sundae, enjoying the shared silence.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong, you know,” Mother says after a few bites.

I sit back, expecting the same sense of irritation I always have when we discuss Abigail. Only today, my usual knee-jerk reaction is absent. I’m more at peace about the subject than I can ever remember.

“I don’t care,” I reply honestly.

“Barron, please, you?—”

“No, not like that.” I give her a rueful smile, knowing I should have expected her to misinterpret my statement. “I mean, I don’t care if she’s done something wrong or not.”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “You don’t?”

“I don’t, and I told her so earlier.”

“You did?” Mother tilts her head, narrowing her eyes.

“Granted, my timing wasn’t the best,” I admit, though it’s all I’m going to share about what happened between us.

She nods slowly, accepting my explanation. So, there’s a chance she’ll let it go, at least for the moment. But she sets her spoon down, and I brace myself for anything. Opal McClelland has a mother’s intuition and a sharp tongue.

“Remember when I was at the hospital for some tests last year?” she asks tentatively, knocking me for a loop.

“Yes.” I gather my composure, determined not to shatter this moment of calm. While this conversation has veered way off track, the fact it’s about her health sets me on edge more than any tongue-lashing ever could.

“Well, it was a little more serious than I let on.” She drops her gaze to the table, absently smoothing the napkin.

She might as well have punched me in the gut. “How serious?”

“I was hospitalized…for several weeks,” she reveals, avoiding my gaze.

The fact she doesn’t mention an exact number of weeks is enough to raise an alarm. Why didn’t she tell me? I would have dropped everything and gone straight to her if I’d known she was sick.

I swallow hard, needing to keep the accusation out of my voice. If I start in on her about why she kept me in the dark, she’s just going to shut down. And I need to know, did I almost lose my mother?

“What happened?” I ask hoarsely, my heartbeat echoing in my throat.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath while I hold mine and wait.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

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