Page 2 of Midnight Mate
“I booked you the best in town, you know.”
I looked up and found my mother watching me expectantly.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She beamed, and I knew my appreciation meant a lot. Which somehow made me feel even worse.
Another swig.
Steve would kill me if he saw me now. But Steve wasn’t here.
“I’m happy to help. We both are.”
Both.She meant Dad. I barely managed to hold in my snort.
“Physical therapy starts first thing tomorrow,” she went on. “Here’s the information and your schedule.”
She slid a sheet of paper toward me, and I read her elegant handwriting as it outlined my life for the next three months. Physical therapy three times a week at a sports rehab clinic in town.
Ice baths once a day. Heat twice.
It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Except that I was here. In the Falls. Withhim. And I might never snowboard again.
My gaze caught on where she’d scrawled the therapist’s name, and I froze.
Of course.
Turning Point Therapy and Rehab.
I should have known.
And while I had no idea what to expect, showing up there after all this time, part of me was looking forward to it. Gene and Meg had done so much for me growing up. Catching up with them sounded nice. As long as they didn’t try to murder me for what I’d done to their daughter.
“East?”
I blinked and found Mom watching me, her fake happiness beginning to fade into something much more real. Concern. Worry. Fear.
This was the version of her that broke my heart all those years ago. And it was still doing it right now.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself against my own guilt. “Just making sure I know the plan.”
“Of course.” A forced smile. One I remembered well.
God, had it always been this strained?
No, it had been worse.
Denial made for a stiff rope between me and my mother. I’d prayed for years for that rope to snap. For her to wake up. Get out. But getting out was my thing. Staying was hers.
“How are things in Breckenridge?” she asked.
“Good.”
“And your apartment? Did your landlord give you any trouble about being away?”
“No trouble.”
“Your sponsors—”
