Page 94 of Broken Deal

“Why are Miles and Amelia dating?” she presses. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I place the lemonade cup on the coffee table with a loudthud. “Because I don’t particularly want to relive the fact that my boyfriend of four years was cheating on me with my own sister the whole time and I was too stupid to notice,” I confess, devoid of emotion, my eyes finding her.

Mom gasps, her eyes bulging as she sits on the couch and grabs my hand. “Amelia did that?”

“Mom.” I sigh, rubbing my temple. “Amelia is…a lot. You know? After Dad died, you were so checked out, and I don’t blame you. You were grieving. But I dealt with her the best I could. She grew angry. Rebellious. I guess that never went away.”

“I don’t understand why she would do that.” Mom gapes, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Because Amelia thrives in destruction. Just like Dad did,” I say softly. I feel so guilty for putting this all on her. For shining light on the reality of the situation. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t bite me in the ass.

Tears start to fill her eyes, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with so much and you felt like you couldn’t come to me. I feel like a burden when I should be supporting you, giving you advice.”

I sit closer to her, bringing her into a side hug. “Mom, you arenota burden. I will always take care of you. You haven’t had an easy life, and all I want you to do is be happy. You never have to worry about me.”

“You haven’t had an easy life either. Because of me. Because I never left your father. I—” She stops, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm herself.

“We don’t have to talk about this. The last thing I want is for you to end up in the hospital again,” I say softly.

“No,” she replies, her tone sharp. “We need to talk about this.”

I start rubbing her back with soft circles and nod. I know her psychologist has told her she needs to face her past to keep moving on. Maybe it’s time. Maybe she’s finally ready. Part of me is hopeful. Part of me wants to believe this will be a distant memory, and all the abuse, the berating, and the hate will be so distant it won’t affect her—us—anymore.

“I met your father when we were just kids. And we truly loved each other at some point. But everything just…changed. Your father was sick, Sophia. Alcoholism is a sickness. I’ve come to accept this. It destroyed himandus. I will never, and I mean never, forgive him for everything he put us through. But some part of me wanted to believe he was going to change.” Her tears start to come out rapidly, but hervoice remains controlled. So much different than before. I’ve never felt so proud. “And because I was clinging to a life that was long gone, I affected the two most important people. The only two people who mattered—my daughters. When your father died, I felt like a part of me died, too. But another part of me was also relieved he was gone, and I’ve felt so guilty over the years for that.”

“You have no reason to feel guilty, because if we’re being completely honest right now, I also felt relieved when he passed away. It was like a huge burden was lifted. Even though I had to step in and take care of you and Amelia, I did it happily, because at least he wasn’t here to harm us anymore,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper as I try my best to push down all of those emotions. While I’m proud of her for speaking up, I can’t be showing those types of emotions in front of her. I need to be strong for her.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to carry this burden for so long. But I will keep working on it, going to the doctor, and taking my medication. And eventually, maybe I can even work,” she says hopefully.

I shake my head. “I will always take care of you. I never want you to worry.”

“I want to, eventually. I want to leave this place,” she says, barely above a whisper. “Living in this place, filled with so many bad memories, I want to let them go. Have a fresh start.”

“God.” I groan, leaning against the couch. “I never thought about that. I am such an idiot. I will find you a new place, okay?”

“No. You’ve done enough.”

“Mom, you need to understand I willalwaysdo everything in my power to see you happy. I want to see youlive. Because…” I inhale, holding back my tears. “When Dad was alive, you weren’t living. You were surviving. We all were. So I need you to live now. For me, okay?” I whisper shakily.

After a beat of silence, she nods. “Okay.”

We hug each other tightly, and as I’m letting go, she asks, “Can we talk about that boy now?”

I chuckle. “You really want to get it all out there today, huh?”

“Stop avoiding.” She hits my shoulder playfully. “Do you love him?”

I start playing with my cuticles, avoiding her gaze. “Even if I did, I can’t, Mom.”

“But why? I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve never seen you smile like that. And the way he looks at you.” She sighs, a wide smile playing on her lips. “That boy adores the ground you walk on. He loves you. I know it. Even if you guys are too blind to notice.”

How do I explain to her that even if that were the case, it still wouldn’t matter? I don’t do love. I can’t. I was supposed to be loved by my father, but we all know how that turned out. All my life I’ve sought validation, which is how I found Miles. I let him treat me like I didn’t matter, but I never saw it clearly because I wanted the companionship. I wanted to be seen. I wanted the attention I never got from my father. I see it now, as clear as day, Miles wasn’t good for me. He took advantage of my weaknesses.

Yes. But Lorenzo is not Miles, and he has proven that.

He’s a protector. Fierce. Funny. Humble. True to himself. He doesn’t make me feel like my weaknesses are a burden. If anything, he makes me feel like I’m capable of anything. In a self-destructive kind of way, I don’t think I’m worthy of that. I’m stubborn. Can’t process emotions correctly. And an overall complete mess. That’s not what he needs. Hedeserves a woman who’s the complete opposite. A woman who can love him wholeheartedly.

In a world full of boys, Lorenzo is a gentleman. The kind of man who seems almost fictional. The prince charming every children’s book talks about. He’s the guy who listens and makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He’s the guy who remembers small details. The kind of person who puts on your seatbelt to make sure you’re secured. The kind of guy who remembers your dream and makes it a reality because he wants you to forget about your problems and live in the moment. He’s the kind of guy who, when he smiles, it’s warm and genuine. His actions speak louder than words, and when you’re around him you feel…safe.

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