Page 37 of Their Obsession

“That’s you, Superstar,” I whisper before giving him my back and walking away towards Emily.

I don’t know what’s happening between the three of us or where any of us stand, but I do know that I can’t seem to stay away from them—either of them.

TWENTY-ONE

Lilly

This is an epically awful idea. I haven’t seen her in years. We’re like oil and water, and expecting us to just be able to sit nicely at a restaurant and chit-chat like civilized people is ridiculous. And yet, here I am. I wore the nicest and girliest dress I could find—it’s a white eyelet with a flowy skirt and halter top. The square neckline falls just below my clavicle so as not to reveal too much cleavage. The skirt hits mid-calf so that I’m not showing too much leg. But the sleeveless style stops it from being prudish. My mother should approve, but I’m sure she’ll find something to pick apart.She always does.

Charlotte Pettersen is sitting at a small round table against the expansive windows in the back of the restaurant. I have to admit, with the sunlight streaming in through the glass behind her, bathing her in a soft glow, she does look angelic. Her blonde hair is perfectly twisted and pulled away from her face, exposing herslender neck and pointed jaw. She holds herself with an air of regality that I definitely did not inherit. My mother is posh and poised and I’m so verynot. Our stark differences are probably why we have never seen eye to eye. Her head turns and her cool green eyes lock onto mine. We share the same eyes, but that’s about it.

“Lillianna!” She offers me a small wave as if I wasn’t already walking directly towards her. “Over here.”

I weave between the round tables covered in crisp white linens. Small vases with a single dahlia dot each table. The flowers are all the exact same shade of pretty pink. Everything is utter perfection—stiff and suffocating perfection. This would be the type of place my mother would choose for lunch.

“Hello, mother,” I greet as I throw myself down into the wooden chair across from her.

She gives me a disapproving look as her eyes roam over me. I become anxious instantly under her appraising gaze, causing me to worry the dry skin around my cuticle. It’s a nervous habit that I’ve never been able to shake.

“Lillianna,” she lets out a huffed sigh that lets me know that her next words won’t be kind. “I thought I said to dress presentable.”

I barely contain my simmering anger. Releasing a long, slow breath I try to calm myself. “This dress is nice, mother.”

A server comes to the table, interrupting whatever backhanded comment my mother had loaded next. He pours us water and coffee. My mother’s slender fingers reach to the center of the table to add a splash of cream and two scoops of sugar into her coffee. She takes a sip, her pale pink Chanel lipstick staining the china. I drink mine black and bitter. I’m not in the mood for anything sweet today.

“So, how’s your work, dear?” my mother asks as she absentmindedly swirls her coffee with a small spoon. Her question is directed at me but her eyes scan the room, always onthe prowl for who she can schmooze and scam.

“Stressful,” I admit to her. “We had a new player join the team—Dmitri Volkkon.”

Her green eyes immediately snap to mine. Right now, looking at her is like looking into a mirror—her eyes simmer with the same panic I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks, ever since Dom strolled back into my life. My mother’s face drains of color, as if she’d just seen a ghost. That name got her full attention.

“I must have misheard you, dear.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“No, mother, you heard me correctly. He’s back.” I take a sip of coffee and pretend to peruse the menu, which consists of a meager eight items, all of which are overpriced and pretentiously over described, in order to hide my smirk.

I love my mother. She has a lot of great qualities. But she was harsh on me growing up. I was never good enough for her at anything I did. It took years to get over the hits my self-confidence took under her constant disappointment. The result is that as an adult I have a confusing mix of appreciation, resentment, love, and anxiety that flood my system every time I’m around her. The toxic mixture only serves to leave me feeling a completely unhinged mess whenever I’m around her. This is why I usually avoid her as much as possible.

“Lillianna, you listen to me.” She keeps her voice quiet, careful not to make a scene, but her tone is anything but calm. “You willNOTgo anywhere near that boy.”

Boy?

I scoff audibly. Dropping my menu, I stare at her in complete disbelief.

“He’s not a boy, Mom. And I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t get to dictate what I do with my life.”

She rolls her eyes before leveling me with her signature cold look. It’s the look that gets her whatever she wants from myfather. He was the most ruthless player on the ice during his time, a total enforcer, never taking shit from anyone. But she’d have him crumbling with just a single look.

“Lillianna, that boy was trouble when you two were teens and he’s trouble now. You don’t need to get wrapped up with a boy like him. Why do you think I made sure he left you alone back then?” She talks flippantly, as if she didn’t just drop a bombshell in my lap. “I know what’s best for you, dear, and it’s certainly not some wannabe who doesn’t even belong in this country. You don’t want to end up pregnant and alone when he gets deported back to whatever shitty village his family came from. He probably already has some sad, barefooted wife and a hoard of children back there, anyway.”

I blink momentarily, unable to form words as rage surges through me. My mother did not just spew racist garbage at me while also telling me that she was in some way responsible for Dom leaving me before, did she? I stare down at the table, cradling my shaking hands in my lap. The sunlight coming in through the large windows glints off the pointed tip of my sharpened steak knife. White begins to cloud the edges of my vision as panic settles in my chest.Fuck. Not here. Not now.I try to breathe through it.In and out. In and out.I will down the intrusive thoughts and use all my energy to calm myself.

“I’m sorry, Mother, you did what?” I ask as I barely hang on to my control.

The waiter approaches the table but my mother waves him off.

“Lillianna, don’t be dramatic, dear. I did what I had to do to stop you from wasting your life with a nobody who was going nowhere. We knew you were sleeping with him. What if he knocked you up to trap you?” She talks about this so nonchalantly, as if she didn’t blow up my entire life when I was still in high school.

All these years… I thought he left me… I thought he abandonedme.

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