Page 6 of Never Kiss and Tell

“When you say ‘she,’ do you mean your mother?”

I nod. “She told me infidelity happens in every marriage,” I shake my head, dropping the locket back into my shirt. “I guess she’s right. I know my stepdad has cheated a few times. I can never figure out why she just goes with it, though. She never fights with him over it.”

“A key component of marriage is trust. If you have no trust that your spouse will stay devoted to you andonlyyou, it can lead to serious issues in the household. I think it’s best if we focus on building boundaries with your mother, particularly regarding this issue with infidelity.”

“I live with her. My biggest boundary is locking the door when I take a shower. Even then, she has a key.”

“What I’m talking about is allowing yourself to form your own opinions. What do you think marriage should be?”

The question pangs against my chest. I’ve avoided thinking about it. I chew on my bottom lip, running through every marriage I’ve ever seen, every couple, and every breakup.

“I think . . .” I take a deep breath, solidifying myself. “I think marriage should consist of two people that are so in love thatthe thought of hurting that person — losing them — guts you.”

Two sides of a penny, Dad would say.

Kenya nods, smiling. “Good. Now, our time is up, but I have some homework for you. I want you to think of ways that you can learn new things about yourself.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for instance, find a new hobby that you enjoy. Try some new food. Meet new people. You have been living to please other people for far too long. It’s time that you learn what pleases you.”

What pleases me?

The thought sticks with me as I climb in the back of the Bentley waiting for me at the curb. I used to think Drew pleased me. I even thought I loved him. More importantly, I thought he loved me.

“How did it go?” Christian asks. He’s been my stepfather’s second driver for the past two years. He’s young, only a couple years older than me, and he never ceases to try to cheer me up.

I meet his algae green gaze in the rearview mirror and he nods. “That good, huh?”

I exhale, collapsing back in the seat.

“You know, I really hate riding back here,” I grumble, looking out the window at the passing Los Angeles life. “Makes me feel like a princess.”

“You are a princess,” he murmurs, his gaze dark as he concentrates on the road. Christian has always had a sort of . . . affliction when it comes to my family’s lifestyle, though he would never speak a word of it to anyone but me. He feels that my stepdad, Marcus, uses his money to get away with whateverhe wants. He’s not wrong. Marcus is a high-profile attorney. He uses his money for everything.

“I’m not a princess,” I mutter, standing from my seat. I have to stoop, despite my short height. “Now, move over.” I thrust my foot into the front of the car and climb up, settling into the passenger seat.

Christian chuckles quietly and shakes his head.

“You’re going to get me fired.”

“Nonsense. Do you know how hard it was for Marcus to find you? If anything, he’ll fire me.”

Christian falls quiet as he watches out ahead of him.

“You never answered my question.”

“I know. It was on purpose.”

“Do you feel better, at least?” he asks, finally looking at me. His eyes hold something deeper, like he wouldn’t believe me, even if I lied.

“No. I found out my perception of love is fucked and so is my mom’s. Also, I have homework.”

“Homework? From a therapist?”

I roll my eyes. “Find what pleases you.”

“You don’t already know?” Christian asks as we exit the city. The skyline gets smaller on the horizon as we head out to the estates that my mother and her husband call home.

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