Page 76 of Pucking Secret

Millie is still bubbling with excitement over her conversation with Owen, her chatter filling the kitchen as I prepare to make breakfast. I grab the eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter when there’s a sharp knock on the door. I frown. Who could that be so early in the morning?

Glancing at Millie, I murmur, “Stay here, sweetheart,” and head to the door, wiping my hands on the front of my robe.

When I open the door, I freeze. My mom is standing on the front porch. Her expression is tight, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looks upset, but not sad, so I don’t think she’s here about Gram. She hasn’t bothered stopping by the house all the time she’s been in Denver, so what the hell does she want now?

“Mom,” I say in a cool tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” she says, brushing past me without waiting for an invitation. Her designer handbag sways at her side, and her heels click sharply against the hardwood as she steps into the living room.

I close the door and follow her, trying to keep my tone even. “What’s going on? It’s early and I’ve got to get Millie ready for school. Can’t whatever … this is, wait?”

She spins to face me, her eyes sharp. “No, it can’t. I just stopped into the hospital to check on your grandmother, and do you know what she told me? That you’re back together with Owen Scott!”

“Would you keep your voice down?” I hiss. Looking toward the kitchen door, I make sure Millie has not popped out to see what’s going on. Facing Mom again, I grab her wrist and yank her back toward the door. “Outside. Now.”

I open it and drag her out onto the porch, shutting it firmly behind us.

When I’m more confident my daughter won’t overhear us, I snap, “Can’t you be more careful? Millie is in the kitchen and I don’t want her to hear you ranting about her father.”

Mom shakes her head with irritation, but seems to understand. “Stacey, what on earth are you thinking? Giving Owen another chance? Are you out of your mind?”

My jaw tightens. I cross my arms over my chest. “Mom, I don’t have time for this, and frankly, it’s none of your damn business.”

“None of my business?” she scoffs, throwing her hands up. “You have no idea what you’re doing! He ruined your life once, Stacey. I was there, remember? I watched as all your dreams were pissed away because of that boy, and now you’re going to take him back? Are you really going to let him do it again?”

I roll my eyes, already regretting answering the door. “He didn’t ruin my life, Mom, and I didn’t piss away my dreams. I just had to adjust them, and I don’t regret having Millie. It sounds more like you’re talking about yourself, not me, and frankly it’s a bit dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” she snaps. “You were pregnant and alone, Stacey! You worked your butt off to raise Millie without any help, while he went off living his cushy life playing hockey and partying.”

“That’s not fair,” I retort, my voice rising as my temper spikes. “You don’t know the whole story. He didn’t know about Millie, and his life wasn’t ‘cushy.’ He was miserable, Mom. His stepdad took his phone away back then and cut him off from everything. He didn’t even get my message telling him I was pregnant. And I was young, pregnant, and jumped to conclusions. Changing my phone number before he could get back his phone and try to reach me.”

Her eyes narrow. “And you believe that?”

“Yes,” I snap. “I do.”

She shakes her head, her tone icy. “You’re too trusting. You have no idea how those rich pricks work, Stacey. People like Owen’s stepfather don’t care about love or family. They care about control, appearances, and legacy. If you think they’ll approve of you and Owen being together, you’re naive.”

I bristle at her words but can’t ignore the small seed of doubt they plant.

“Owen doesn’t care about any of that,” I say firmly. “He left that life behind.”

“Did he?” she counters, arching a brow. “You think it’s that simple? People like Owen don’t just let go of their wealth and privilege. He’ll change his mind and decide to go back home, and when he does, it’s not just you who’ll get hurt — it’s Millie.”

Her words hit harder than I want to admit. I exhale sharply, trying to push the fear she’s provoking aside.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to Millie. Owen wouldn’t either. He’s already proven how much he cares about her.”

Mom steps closer. “You need to think this through, Stacey. Don’t let your feelings for Owen blind you to the reality of the situation. Don’t let this boy make you stupid again.”

I look away, my mind racing. I don’t want to acknowledge that what she’s saying is feeding into a fissure of doubt thatcontinues to linger in the back of my mind. Shaking my head, I shove the thoughts away. No! No, I’m not going to let Mom get in my head. Not again. I’m not a girl anymore and she can’t make me feel bad about loving Owen.

“Mom,” I finally say, my voice low but steady. “This is my life. My choice. Owen is Millie’s father, and he deserves a chance to be in her life — and mine.”

She stares at me for several moments and I know she wants to continue arguing, but I hold her gaze and refuse to back down.

“Fine. I won’t argue,” she says at length, though her tight-lipped expression screams she does, in fact, want to. “I came to tell you something else.”

I furrow my brow. “What is it?”

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