Page 15 of Rogue’s Reckoning

"So, Ivy," Mom begins, "how are things going with that charming boy you've been seeing? Lochlann, was it?"

Ivy smirks, launching into a story about her latest date. I try not to show my surprise. Ivy hasn't mentioned seeing anyone seriously. But then again, we haven't been as close lately as we used to be.

"And what about you, Willow?" Dad chimes in. "Any young men in your life?"

I nearly choke on my water, Rogue's face flashing in my mind. "No, no one special," I manage to say.

"Well, you know, dear," Mom says with a sigh, "you really should try to get out more. You're not going to meet anyone holed up in your apartment with your books all the time."

I bite back a retort, reminding myself that they don't know about Rogue. And even if they did, I'm not sure how I'd explain him. 'Oh, by the way, I lost my virginity to a mysterious, dangerous-looking man I barely know.' Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.

“Hmm, and how is University going?” Mom asks, her smile forced as she turns to me. “Still doing teaching?”

“Yes,” I reply, trying my hardest not to snap at her.

“It’s a shame you didn’t follow Ivy and go into art, where she’s able to express herself.”

I clench my jaw, trying not to let my mother's words get to me. "I love teaching, Mom. It's what I'm passionate about."

"Of course, dear," she says, dismissively. "It's just such a shame to waste your potential on something so... ordinary."

I feel a familiar ache in my chest at her words. No matter what I do, it's never quite good enough in her eyes. Not compared to Ivy's free-spirited, artistic pursuits.

"I think teaching is a noble profession," my dad chimes in, though his tone lacks conviction, and he’s not even focused onthe conversation, just busy reading the newspaper. "The world needs good teachers."

I open my mouth to thank him for trying to stick up for me but stop when I notice Ivy rolling her eyes.

"Speaking of potential," Mom continues, turning to Ivy. "Tell us more about this gallery showing you have coming up. It sounds so exciting!"

As Ivy launches into a detailed description of her latest art project, I find my mind drifting to switching schools, as it always does when Mom starts this crap. I should have left Boston when I had the chance. I truly thought that things would change. How stupid was I?

The rest of dinner passes in a blur of thinly veiled criticisms and not-so-subtle comparisons. By the time dessert is served, I'm emotionally exhausted.

"Well, this has been lovely," I say, standing up. "But I should really get going. I have an early class tomorrow."

"Oh, Willow," Mom sighs, her lips curled in disdain. "Always rushing off. You really should learn to relax and enjoy yourself more, like Ivy."

I force a smile, trying not to let her words sting. "I'll work on that, Mom. Thanks for dinner."

As I gather my things to leave, Ivy follows me to the door. "Hey," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You okay?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Ivy reaches out, squeezing my arm gently. "Don't let them get to you, sis. You're doing great."

Her words surprise me. It's been a while since we've had a moment like this; a flash of the closeness we used to share. "Thanks, Ivy," I manage to say.

As I walk home, the cool night air helps clear my head. I pull out my phone, hoping for a message from Rogue. Nothing. My heart sinks a little, but I remind myself it's only been a day.

Back in my apartment, I curl up on the couch with a book, trying to lose myself in the story. It’s hard, but I push all thoughts of Rogue and my family from my mind. I’m used to being second best, and I’m not ever going to be that girl that chases after a man. I’ve tried for years to get my parents’ love. I will not do that again. I am who I am and that’s never going to change.

It’s beenthree days since dinner at my parents’ house, and I’ve still not heard anything from Rogue. I’ve given up on that. I should have known it was never going to be more than one night.

I’ve tried to focus on my classes, but thoughts of Rogue keep intruding. The memory of his touch, his intense gaze, the way he made me feel so cherished... it haunts me.

"Earth to Willow!" Zoe's voice snaps me out of my daydream. We're sitting in the campus coffee shop between classes, and I realize I've been staring blankly at my untouched latte for God knows how long.

"Sorry," I mumble, taking a sip of my now-lukewarm drink. "Just lost in thought."

Zoe eyes me sympathetically. "Still thinking about Mr. Mysterious, huh?"

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