Page 11 of The Masks We Break

There were plenty of weekends I tried to recreate them from online recipes since my father didn’t allow me to touch her books, but they were rarely edible. He never wanted to show me how to cook them, and I can’t help but think it’s so I’ll always needhim, to feel closer to her.

“Tell me about school. How is Dr. Humphrey?”

I cringe inwardly, finally done with my ruined bowl of pho, and stand, collecting my dishes. Dr. Humphrey is many things, but the wordsIwould use to describe him is a lazy jerk. First, he was unjustly irate about me beingon timewith the packets he literally sent just hours before. Then he reprimanded me in front of dozens of students. Students who are meant to take me seriously since I’ll be answering their questions and grading the majority of their work.

I sigh, rinsing my dishes in the sink, and an uncomfortable warmth rises in my neck, spreading into my chest. There was someone else I didn’t particularly want to be scolded in front of either...

“Remy?” Gone is the sweet voice and in place is his normal impatient, demanding one.

“Yes, sorry, Father. Everything is going well. It’s only been a few days so I haven’t done much for him, but I do have my list of expectations.”

He nods, leaning back, letting cloudy dark eyes scan over me as though he isn’t satisfied with my lackluster response. My stomach tightens, a familiar discomfort when I know my dad is two seconds away from tearing any pride I have away.

“Remember, your name alone didn’t get you that position. I had to recommend you as well. That professor has plenty of better-qualified students, so make sure you don’t embarrass me. Also, you’d be wise to remember that if this deters you from your classes in the slightest, you’ll have to quit. And Solaces don’t quit.”

A knot forms in my throat, and no matter how many times I swallow, I can’t seem to force it down. Still, if I don’t verbally answer, that will be another issue I don’t have the energy to deal with.

“Yes, Father.” My voice sounds like a frog first thing in the morning. Too often does he remind me of who I am. Of what my last name issupposedto represent. But to me, they are shoes I’ll never fill no matter how perfect I am.

To him, I won’t ever be enough. We both know it, but instead of addressing it, we let it fester in the corner and try our best to ignore it as we eat my father’s weekly renditions of my mother’s recipes.

He nods again before scooting his chair back, tossing his napkin on the table. “I have surgery.”

I sigh, relief flooding through my system as I watch him retreat to get ready. I’m not sure when that happened. I mean, living up to my father’s expectations has always been a struggle. But I’m not quite sure when love left the room.

When controlling me felt more important than guiding me.

When I became a burden and stopped being his daughter.

I finish the dishes, clean up the table, and drive back to the place that feels like home.

* * *

“And why didn’tyou think I would want to know?” I narrow my eyes, both hands on my hips as if that will make my small size intimidating to an Amazonian like Amora.

When I told her about seeing Blaze, she hadn’t seemed surprised, but at the time, I was too flustered to think straight. Now, however, it’s girls’ night out, and as Amora and Lily float around the kitchen, I can’t help but sense they already knew.

Lily, Amora’s best friend and my reading buddy, laughs, jabbing Amora in the shoulder. Of course, Lily knows. She and Blaze are practically siblings, but it’s been so long since Amora’s talked about him, I’m a little surprised.

Amora brushes some golden locks over a shoulder before bending to grab her muffins from the oven. “I mean, I didn’t think you would care. You had a little thing for him in high school, but that was years ago.”

Lily moves behind her, a fresh bottle of tequila in her hand. “Same reason I hadn’t told Blaze that Amora lives here.”

Amora spins on her heels, her apron whipping around. “Because of an old ass crush?”

Lily lifts her brows, motioning to me. “Guess we both had some flawed thinking there, amiga.”

“Bitch, bye. I have moved on to bigger and better, anyway.” She sticks out her tongue before returning to her muffins, pulling each out from the pan with a fork.

The buttery sweetness flows through the air, flavoring every breath with its sugar, making my mouth water. I love warm baked goods. Add a blanket with a book, and it’s like I’m stuck in a bubble in my own slice of heaven—none of the chaos happening outside matters when I’m in there.

“Speaking of crushes, how’s your boo?” Amora asks, pulling back the paper on one of her muffins. The way the steam curls around her hand should be warning enough, but she doesn’t seem bothered by how hot it is and takes a bite.

Lily’s lips curl, a light blush tinting her cheeks. “He’s great. Busy with the science department. He’s been working on research to send to Johns Hopkins for dementia patients. I don’t quite understand some of the terms, but it’s incredible, and he’s killing it, so, there’s that.”

After all the drama that happened between her and my friend, Spencer, I was worried she might hurt him. I thought that maybe she harbored some hurt from their misunderstandings and might leave him again. I initially suggested being her reading buddy as a way to keep tabs on her, just in case. But it’s moments like these that remind me she loves him just as much as he adores her. She cares enough about his passion to explain it to us, rather than just saying schoolwork. Or the way she lights up like a disco ball when we talk about him.

I mean, who would have known Lily, the queen of Emerald Falls, would be capable of loving someone she once hated.

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