Page 86 of Stutter

I shouldn’t have told him that.

“Yes, we spent our holidays in Australia.” My mother smiles tightly, blinking.

Jonas’ head snaps back a bit before his eyes narrow. “Did you visit her at Lorne Wood before you went to Australia?”

I shake my head before I can stop it. No, they didn’t.

Sofia laughs nervously, deflecting the question by gritting out “She’s no longer at Lorne Wood. I was hoping she would spend it with us this year, you too, Jonas,” through her flawless smile. Her million-dollar smile. So beautiful, my mama. But not very mine… not anymore.

“Oh, Raven, sweetheart, did you want to spend the holidays with your mother?” Elena asks me, hand squeezing mine. I look down at our hands clasped together. The blue of her veins and the small freckles all over. There are a few wrinkles, but not a lot. She’s so warm. So kind. She touches me like I’m not broken. Not fragile. Fierce hugs and kisses that leave little lipstick stains on my cheeks. I love those. “The last time we spoke you seemed so happy to be spending it with me. I don’t mind waiting until Christmas day to have you with me.”

“She spoke… with you?” Sofia’s voice trembles.

I look back up but not at her, at Elena, whose brows are furrowed and her eyes filled with concern. For me. It’s a silent reassurance that if I choose to stay with the Monroe’s another night, she’ll be okay with my decision, but I don’t… I don’t want that.

I’d rather spend a night in solitary at Lorne Wood in the dark.

Jonas’ grin is fucking triumphant and smug as all hell. “Mom learned sign language to be able to talk to her. Did you? As her mother, I mean. Did you pay six hundred measly little dollars for an online ASL course to be able to communicate with your only child who went through something extremely traumatic and probably wished she could talk to her mommy? Needed her mommy to comfort her? Do you see at all where you continuously fail as her mother, or do you just not care?”

“Jonas!” Elena quietly scolds to not bring attention to us, smiling at passersby looking for their next glass of strawberry infused wine.

Her face turns a bright red and again, Sofia laughs but it’s so bitter I can almost taste it. The tension is so thick I choke on it. She turns her attention to me, dropping her silicone smile and something like regret or shame creeps across her features. But I wouldn’t know. I don’t think she’s ever regretted anything when it came to me. But if it’s shame… I know that look well. Except I don’t think it’s directed at me this time.

“Raven darling?”

I flick my gaze to Elena.

“Did you want to spend the holiday with your mother?”

Before I can even begin to shake my head and sign that I’m excited to spend Christmas with her in Vermont, there’s another presence beside Sofia.

“Hey mom, sorry, but the caterers are asking questions I can’t answer.”

Sofia plasters a smile on her face again, turning to Axel then back to us. “A hostess’ job is never finished. Please, enjoy the party.” She leaves us, heading toward the kitchen, her heels clacking loudly in my ears.

I should probably feel sad. I should feel angry that no, she didn’t bother to learn sign language. Instead the longer I stay here, the more I feel like a stranger. This isn’t my home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. The more I think about it – it probably never was.

“Raven!” A feminine, mezzo-soprano voice with a faded English accent calls out to me.

Brina. I go to her, putting my hand in hers, noticing the lace covering her hands but this is a fancy party, so I try not to think of it too much, instead offering a smile. I look up at the man that towers over the both of us and back down to the girl I stayed up nights with gushing about boys during our freshman year at RMU and raise a brow in question.

“This is my betrothed – Maksim Giordano.” Yes, she’s definitely fuller in the face and body. Her mulberry dress hugs her curves and honestly, she looks fucking hot. Gone are the sharp ridges and protruding bones, nothing but softness. Her usual green eyes are darker now, and she has bags under her eyes blotted with concealer.

I can’t shake the feeling that something’s happened to her.

Something bad.

Intuition or just PTSD, but… the smile she has on her face, as pretty as it is, feels like the other fake ones plastered around here. Living statues amongst humans.

Maksim holds his hand out and I take it. “Lovely party.”

Dark hair, dark eyes. Velvet voice like sin. He has at least a day's worth of stubble and his hair is pushed back like he ran his large fingers through it one too many times. He smells expensive and his expression remains bored as though this was just an obligation, and I feel that.

“Oh, she doesn’t talk. I just wanted to introduce you two since I’m hoping she’ll be my maid of honor come Spring.”

My mouth drops and I shake my head at her. I want to tell her that just being here is giving me hives underneath my dress. I don’t know if I could be her maid of honor at something that will most likely be the event of the year, knowing her.

God, there are so many people here, when did more show up? If it weren’t for the tables, it feels like we’d be shoulder to shoulder. Maybe that’s why it’s getting so warm in here. Or maybe I’m flushing with embarrassment.

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