Page 83 of That One Night
“Seriously, Mom, you don’t need to worry about me. Everything’s fine. Sure, I think we all wish you hadn’t seen what you did, but try to forget about it.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I wish you would.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, looking wistful. “I do too.”
“Let me get dressed, okay?” he said, because standing here half naked talking to his mom didn’t seem right. He didn’t care that he was only wearing boxers – his mom had seen a lot worse, after all. Growing up with three sons and a husband that the entire country adored, there was usually at least one man half naked in the house at any time.
But she was still his mom. She deserved respect.
“I can go,” she told him.
“Just one minute.” He walked into his bedroom, letting out a groan at the situation he’d managed to get himself in. He pulled on yesterday’s clothes before he walked back out to his mom. She was still holding the coffee cup. It was hardly touched.
He gently took it out of her hand, and put it on the table, before he pulled her into his arms.
It was like she needed this hug more than either of them knew. She exhaled heavily, her head against his shoulder.
“I love you,” he told her. “But you need to stop worrying so much about me. I’m all grown up now.” He was the youngest and she’d always mothered him more than his brothers, but he didn’t need that from her anymore. Hell, the twins were married with kids, fathers themselves.
And yeah, for the first time in forever, he was thinking about that. Thinking that maybe someday that’s what he wanted, too.
“I can’t help it,” his mom said. “I let you down. When you were younger…”
He cupped her face in his hands, his expression almost stern. “Mom, you never let us down. You were the best mom. You still are.” He meant it, too. Yes, he’d made mistakes, but they were never hers.
“I just want you to be happy,” she told him. Her eyes were watery now, like the emotions were finally seeping out.
“I am,” he told her firmly. “I’m so happy.”
“But you can’t base your happiness on somebody else’s misery.”
He knew she was talking about Emery again. About her being engaged to somebody else. “Can we agree not to talk about this?”
“If you promise me you won’t get hurt, then yes.”
His eyes caught hers. He could see the anxiety in them. The same emotion he used to see when they were kids off doing reckless things, like climbing too high up a tree or fighting each other in the yard.
“Well that’s easy,” he told her. “I promise you I won’t get hurt.” He was a big boy. He’d left that kind of pain behind. There were only good things ahead.
She patted his face, her lips pressed tightly together. “You’re such a good man,” she told him. “And I wish that you could see that.”
Yeah, well. Bad boys didn’t always become good men. But he was trying his best here.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Taking a deep breath,Emery picked up the phone and pressed on the phone symbol next to Trenton’s name, counting the seconds until it inevitably went to voicemail.
Her mom had barely paid her any attention when she’d walked back inside an hour ago. She was nursing a hangover, of all things. The woman who never drank had managed to get through three glasses of punch last night before she realized it was spiked.
“Didn’t you ask?” Emery had said, trying not to smile, because her mom looked horrified.
“No. I assumed the sign next to it was true.”
“What did the sign say?”
