Page 89 of Unforgettable

Everybody turns to look at her, except my mom. She stares at me, confused, like she has no idea how my life even got to this point.

“What does she mean?” Mom asks me.

My tongue thickens, sticking to the roof of my mouth, and I find myself unable to answer her. When the silence lingers, Maddy steps in, saving the day. “Their relationship wasn’t real. Oz asked Reeve to be his fake boyfriend so you would leave him alone about bringing a date to Dixie’s wedding.”

Mom’s gaze darts between Maddy and me. “Is this true?”

I glance at my sister, who smiles at me sadly. “I know you’re heartbroken about Reeve, but maybe this is the right time to get it all off your chest.”

“Oz.” My mom steps closer to me. “Is what your sister is saying true? What is it that you need to get off your chest?”

I run a hand down my face, unsure of how talking about Reeve has led me to an overdue conversation with my mother that’s only going to have me feeling even more exposed and naked than I already feel.

Taking a deep breath, I trudge myself back to the dining table, and my mother and sisters follow.

Picking at my cuticles, I start the story from the beginning.

“We met on an app, like I said,” I start. “We had a…” My words trail off because the words I want to use to describe our night together make me sound like a lovesick fool. “We had a good night together, and I thought I would never see him again. But a few weeks later he started working at V and V.”

I look up at Dixie. “It was the same day you announced you had a wedding date. Anyway.” I sigh. “Mom was on me about a date and Dad was hassling me about working at V and V and Maddy suggested I ask him to the wedding.”

Nervously, I turn to face my mother, holding her gaze. “I thought it was a great plan, and I felt so satisfied when I was able to tell you I was bringing someone. Like just for a moment, you wouldn’t be hassling me about something, or disappointed in me.”

“Oz, I didn’t know—”

I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. “I know, Mom, I’m just telling you how it is. There is no blame here. I’m definitely not blaming you. It’s just the sequence of events. And when I said I had a boyfriend, you insisted you wanted to meet him, so I made it happen.”

“And you fell in love with him,” she states, coming full circle with the information.

“And I fell in love with him,” I confirm.

My mom puts her hand over our entwined ones. “I didn’t mean to force you into something like that. I was unaware of the toll it was taking on you. Honestly, eighty-five percent of the time you seem so unfazed by the things we say.”

“Come on,” Dixie scoffs. “You can’t tell me that you and Dad haven’t been trying to wear him down.”

For the first time since I was a teenager, I watch as each of my sisters come to my defense.

“We know you’ve wanted the best for all of us,” Kat says. “But you need to let Oz live his own life. His own way. Making his own choices.”

“We all do,” Maddy interjects. “He’s a big boy and he’s very capable of making a living and supporting himself and working out exactly what makes him happy. He actually has a very successful business.”

“Maddy,” I warn, dragging my hands from under Mom’s, anticipating her next move, before she does.

“No,” she insists. Rising up off her chair, she heads to her bag and I stand too as I consider wrestling her for the phone. “It’s time you told them. Let them be proud of you, Oz.”

When she pulls out her cell, I reluctantly sit back down. She’s right, it’s now or never.

Before returning to the table, she steps out to the backyard and calls for my dad. He eventually walks in, apprehension and worry marring the crease lines on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Just stand next to Mom,” she instructs him. “I want to show you something.”

He does as she says, looking at each of his children, trying to work out what exactly is going on.

Putting the cell on the table in front of them, she says, “This is Instagram.”

“For God’s sake, Maddy,” my dad huffs. “We know what Instagram is, we’re old, not clueless.”

We all erupt in a chorus of laughter, and my lungs deflate in relief, thinking maybe being more open about myself will help our relationship.

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