Page 193 of Smooth Sailing

Seriously.

I’d had enough.

“Are you actually my mother?” I asked.

It was a low blow, and it landed.

Mom let out a noise like she’d been gut punched.

Gram flinched.

Dad whispered, “Diana.”

But Hugger?

Hugger grinned at me.

And Pete?

He winked.

“I see how it is,” Mom said, her voice mortally wounded.

But no.

Oh no.

She wasn’t the victim here.

“In essence, you took my father from me,” I said with deceptive quiet. “You lied to me and made me believe things that weren’t true about my own father. You drove a wedge between us when he loved me, he provided for me, he was there for me. But your lie was always between us. He knew it, and he sacrificed what we could have had to give me you.”

Gram made a sobbing sound.

Mom stared at me.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you for that,” I stated honestly. “What I do know is you coming to my home, speaking like you did to me, Harlan, Pete, Dad, Gram, is not the way to guide me to that.”

“I suppose you can go to Nicole, who’s always been there for you, and cry on her shoulder,” Mom returned.

“I know I can, because you’re right, she’s always been there for me,” I replied.

Gram made another weeping noise.

Mom turned to Gram. “I want to go back to the Biltmore. I need to rest and process all of this before I go to my spa appointments.”

Good God.

“Do you hear yourself, Margaret?” Gram asked, clearly so shocked by her daughter’s statement, it shocked the tears right out of her eyes.

Which was not shocking because Mom was a huge-ass brat. And not the good kind.

“I think I’ve been treated abysmally, so you can’t be surprised I need some time to?—”

“For goodness’ sakes, stop talking,” Gram sighed. “And order up one of those Ubers. I’m not taking you back to the Biltmore.”

“Mom!” my mother snapped.

“Loved you to bits, did you wrong,” Gram muttered.

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