Page 123 of False God

I nod again.

“Because there’s nothing you could have done to make us prouder than to forge your own path, Lili. Everyone expected me to work at Ellsworth Enterprises, if I worked at all. Just like everyone thought your dad would spend his whole career at Kensington Consolidated. I didn’t buyHautebecause I’d always wanted to own a fashion magazine. I did it to prove to myself that I could. Just like your dad wanted to show that he could succeed in a building that didn’t have his last name plastered on the side.”

I smile. “The letters are too big, aren’t they?”

Mom matches it. “Obnoxious really.”

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, staring at the twinkling lights of the city.

“Did something happen with Cal on your trip?” she finally asks.

“We’re not back together, if that’s what you mean. He … he made me feel safe, but I was never scared to lose him.”

Mom nods, letting the topic drop. She always offers advice when I ask for it, but never pushes me to talk. When I told her I broke up with Cal, she didn’t ask if I was sure or what happened. She made frozen margaritas, French-braided my hair, and painted my nails.

“I met someone else,” I admit.

A pause.

“Do I know him?”

I gnaw on my lower lip. “You’ve met him. Charles Marlborough. He was meeting with Asher when you and Dad first got back.”

“Theduke?”

I sigh. “He’s more than that. It’s just a … title.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart. I’m just … surprised. You’ve never mentioned him before. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Because I pretended not to know him. I almost smile at the memory of Charlie’s annoyed expression.

“He was at Chloe’s wedding. He went to college with her husband.”

“Are you two dating?”

“No. No, we’re not dating. I don’t even—he’s exasperating. Superior and opinionated and pompous and—” I stop talking when I see Mom smile. Clear my throat. “But he’s the first guy who doesn’t seem to care that I’m a Kensington. Even Cal … I think Cal cared; he just pretended not to. Charlie scares me. Scares me in a good way, I mean. Or maybe it’s bad. Losing him … scares me.”

I never really had him though.

He left me in Saint-Tropez with a hastily scribbled note. Walked away for a third time, and it’s a pattern I can’t keep repeating. Each time, it breaks my heart a little more.Hebreaks my heart a little more.

“I’d like to meet him. Again, I mean.”

I eat more ice cream before telling her, “That probably won’t happen. It’s not going to work out.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not … I don’t see how it would. It’s too complicated.”

He doesn’t care enough.

I’m too embarrassed to say it. I thought we were turning into something real that last night at his villa. But then he took off like he had always planned to, with the most basic of explanations, and now, it feels like I just saw what I wanted to.

“People say complicated like it’s a bad thing,” Mom muses. “But it just means more effort is required. And there’s nothing worth having, Lili, that doesn’t require some effort.”

I nod.

I don’t ask her what it means if I’m the only one willing to make an effort. I already know the answer.

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