Page 16 of Keep Me In Your Heart

I follow my mother up the stairs of the gallery to where I know the office is. When we reach the second floor, I spot a piece on display in the middle that makes my heart fly up to my throat.

It’s an acrylic portrait on canvas that was obviously ripped to shreds before being sewn back together. The hazel eyes in the painting haunt me, and I find myself pausing to stare at it. Tears prick behind my eyes, and my mother notices me standing there, frozen in place.

“We’ve made the best of a bad situation,” she mutters quietly before urging me into the office.

I quickly blink back the tears before they can show. Then I follow her into the office.

She closes the door behind me before crossing the room toward her desk. “Go ahead. What is it you want to tell me?”

Everything feels stuck. As if I’m still standing in front of that painting, still ripping it to shreds, still hearing her tell me how disappointing I am, still reading the inscription, still crying in the back of a cop car.

I came here to ask for money. The plan was to beg and appeal to her nonexistent nurturing side, but even I knew that was futile. So what the hell am I doing here? Why do I even bother?

She’s staring at me with a harsh expression as she waits. “Sylvie…” she mutters with irritation.

I look up from the floor and stare into her eyes. “I’m getting married,” I announce.

Her brows shoot upward, and she looks momentarily surprised. “It’s about time,” she replies, her tone a bit lighter. “You and Aaron have been together for years.”

“It’s not Aaron,” I say, tainting his name with bitterness.

“Then who is it?” she asks, letting her brows crease.

I swallow down my nerves. I’m not committing to anything yet. I’m just telling my mother. That hardly counts.

“His name is Killian. He lives in Scotland.”

My mother laughs, and the sound of it is so patronizing I double down. “He’s very rich, actually. Lives in a manor.”

She’s smiling as if this is all a joke. “And how did you meet this…Killian?”

“While I was there last month,” I reply. “We just…ran into each other and kept in touch. His sister was actually just here visiting, and we’ve been setting everything up. I’ll be leaving soon.”

She laughs again. “You’regoing to Scotland? What about Aaron?”

“He’s been fucking Margot for months.”

She gasps at the vulgarity of my language, but I get some pleasure from shocking her.

“Killian loves me.”

God, even uttering those words out loud makes me feel like an idiot, even though I’m the only one in the room who knows it’s a lie.

“When is the wedding?” she asks, and I can no longer tell if she’s taking me seriously or not.

“I’m not sure, actually. But I’ll be going soon, so I just wanted to let you know…” I lift my face, meeting her gaze. “I don’t need anything from you. Not anymore.”

The weight of the stare between us makes the air hard tobreathe. I keep waiting for her to let this grudge she’s holding go, but she won’t. Her expression stays tight and guarded.

“Okay,” she replies coldly.

I have to fight the urge to cry. “Aren’t you going to…wish me well or at least come to the wedding?” My stupid, weak voice cracks.

She shifts her weight and rolls her eyes. “No, because I don’t believe for a moment that you’re really marrying some rich man in Scotland. Seriously, Sylvie.”

My gaze darkens. “I am.”

Her scoff is dramatic and hurtful. “This is just what you do, Sylvie. The moment you don’t have attention, you come in here with some elaborate scheme or dramatic story. It’s all so childish.”

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