Page 57 of Absolution
“You little bitch!” she seethes, going almost purple. Her ice blue eyes flash in her fury-darkened face, even though her features are eerily frozen. “How dare you speak to me that way? We’re family.”
“Not anymore.” I straighten my shoulders. “We are related by blood, and I can’t change that. But you are not my family. You gave up that right when you failed me as a mother.”
“You have ruined us!” she shrieks. “You ruined the family name.”
My fists furl at my sides. “The family name. That’s all you’ve ever cared about. But I didn’t ruin anything. Uncle Jeffrey did that. You did that when you didn’t protect me from him.”
“You betrayed your blood,” she thunders. “Blood is everything.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s bullshit, and I’m not buying into it anymore. I’ve chosen my family, and you are not part of it.”
Her eyes blaze as they fix on Dane, who stands behind me. He’s allowing me to deal with this confrontation while still supporting me with his menacing presence.
“You’ve done this.” She hurls the accusation at him. “You turned my daughter against me.”
“You alienated me all on your own,” I say coldly. “I cut you off two years before Dane came into my life, remember? You might’ve pretended that we weren’t estranged for the sake of appearances, but I chose to live without your toxicity. I chose to be completely alone rather than suffering through a relationship with you.”
I lace my fingers through Dane’s. I’m not alone anymore. And I never will be again.
“You’re making a scene,” I inform my mother. She’s been too incensed and inebriated to notice that several phones are pointed in her direction, recording her narcissistic outburst.
Her gaze darts around the room, noting dozens of eyes fixed squarely on her with clear disapproval.
Her shoulders dip, and her eyes shine.
For a moment, my heart gives a painful beat, and some of my righteous rage ebbs.
Despite everything she’s done to me, she was a victim too. That doesn’t change the fact that she failed me in the worst way. It doesn’t change the lifetime of abuse.
But I have to acknowledge that her cruelty and narcissism comes from a place of pain.
“You should leave now, Mama,” I say, tone gentler.
“Go where?” she asks raggedly. “No one will take my calls. I’ve lost all my friends. I have no one left. They’ve turned their backs on me, Abby. You’re my daughter, my flesh and blood. You can’t abandon me too.”
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through,” I say truthfully. “But I can’t have you in my life. I choose me. You have propertiesall over the country. You can leave South Carolina and start fresh somewhere else.”
“This is my home!” she almost wails. “I can’t leave Elysium.”
“That’s your choice,” I reply evenly. “What you do now is not my responsibility.”
“Leave,” Dane commands. “This conversation is over. Never contact my wife again.”
Mama casts a panicked gaze around the room, as though searching for an ally.
No one steps forward to defend her.
Her reputation is in tatters, and she will not find welcome in Charleston society ever again. Especially not after this public outburst.
I search my heart and find that I don’t feel a shred of vindictive pleasure at her utter devastation. All I feel for her is compassion and more than a little pity.
Dane’s arm loops around my waist, and I lean into him as my mother turns and flees.
I’m with my family now, and the woman disappearing into the humid night will never bother me again.
20
ABIGAIL
