Page 112 of Lies Like Love

“Won’t Steve be upset?”

Mom breathes out a chuckle. “There’s too much you don’t understand, Felicity.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You’ve got your head in the clouds half the time.” She shakes her head. “Or between the pages of your books. There’s a real world with hard decisions that are going to break you if you aren’t careful. Life isn’t pretty, and happily ever afters don’t actually exist. Sometimes, you have to do things whether you like them or not. Survival—that’s all that matters.”

Sitting in my mansion on LA’s hillside, I’m not sure what Mom knows about survival, but when her dark blue eyes meet mine in the mirror, I sense a part of her she’s hidden away.

“If I’m ever gone, you need to understand something.” She presses her lips together, drawing the color back to them.

“Why would you be gone?”

“Hypothetically.” But it doesn’t feel hypothetical at all.

I swallow at the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

“Life is hard, painful, and rarely worth it.” She ties off the end of my braid, running her fingers through the swoop of a curl at the end. “But even if it’s ugly, you do what has to be done for you and yours, so you can survive.”

Her gaze meets mine in the mirror again. Mom’s soul is bare with her words. Fear sending her adrift.

I nod in answer, not sure if that’s what she’s looking for when my words fail me.

Mom stands, patting me on the shoulder and squeezing it gently. “And don’t trust Jude, Felicity. You’ve got a soft spot for him, and soft spots are how you get hurt. Find someone you don’t care about. Never hand a man the power to break you. Promise me.”

I nod. “Promise.”

Hurt is like sand in the ocean.

My feet sink into it, and when I think I’m as far as I’ll go, one wave is all it takes to sneak water between skin and grain and bury me deeper.

Hurt is endless and hides a world beneath what the eyes can see. Ripples on the surface that work with the wind and the earth to drag you further down. While you focus on the waves, they’re nothing compared to the current.

“You’re awake.” Jude stops beside me in the water.

The tide started at my ankles, but now I’m knee-deep. And I can’t remember if I came to it or it came to me. All I know is it sounds peaceful to let it wash me away.

It sounds quiet.

I nod and take in the slowly brightening sky. It’s strange how time passes regardless of what we’ve done or said. The universe doesn’t care about our good or bad days. It exists before and after us. While we’re sandcastles waiting to be washed away with the waves.

A circle we’ll never really escape.

Last night, I fell asleep in the sand, crying in Jude’s arms. And I dreamt about my mother. Memories and figments of my imagination clashing against secrets spilling out. I dreamt about promises young girls make when they’re too naive to know better.

But she did.

She sold me for her own survival to a man who could give her the life she wanted. And even if she absolved herself of her guilt under the guise of not allowing him to touch me, it doesn’t make her any less sick.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

My stomach turns at the thought.

And Jude knew all this time. He knew when I was under the same roof as them and he said nothing. He thought he could save me the pain if he was the only one who carried the burden. It’s selfish.

I want to hate him more.

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