Page 102 of I Choose You
“Mom. What are you doing here?” I asked when I finally found my voice.
“You’re not going to invite me in?”
“Of course, yes. Come in. Come in. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
Reid shifted out of the doorway, his eyes locked on my mother. I could tell he was wary, like he wouldn’t hesitate to throw her out of his house if she said anything out of line.
Her gaze roamed Reid’s house—our house.
I folded the blanket that I had wrapped myself in and laid it neatly on the back of the couch.
“Can I get you a coffee, Mom?”
“Thank you. That would be lovely.”
Why did this have to be so hard? So awkward. She was my mother. I was her only child. She spoke so civilly and sterile, like we were strangers.
Reid grabbed his phone off the counter and texted someone while I pulled two coffee mugs from the cupboard and poured us both a cup, adding a bit of cream and sugar to each.
“You okay?” Reid whispered. He stood behind me, running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp.
I tilted my head back, giving him better access. I loved when he played with my hair, his fingers kneading their way through my mess of tangles.
“Yeah,” I sighed. My eyes darted to the living room, where my mother sat stiffly on the couch. “I think. I didn’t even know she knew where you lived,” I confessed.
“Where we live,” he corrected. “I’m sure it didn’t take much digging to find the address. It’s the business address too.”
“True.” I turned to face him. “You don’t have to stay if you need to get to work.”
He held my face in my hands, holding my gaze. “I’m not going anywhere while the wicked witch is in my house with my love. I already texted Richie to get started without me. “
A deep breath expelled from my lungs in relief. “Thank you.”
We walked back to the living room, and I handed my mother her coffee, sitting next to her on the couch, but Reid stayed standing, on his guard.
“You have a beautiful home, Reid.”
His brow arched. She sounded… sincere.
“Thank you, Melanie.”
“Mom, it’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s early. Did you leave at 3:00 a.m. to get here?”
“3:30 a.m. Your father… wasn’t home. And I wanted to see this town that you were calling home now.”
I hadn’t noticed before—I was too concerned with why she was here and what she was going to say about my new life—but she looked sad. The bags under her eyes were dark and puffy, her mouth was downturned, and she had a heaviness to her, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
My eyes widened in understanding. My father had spent the night somewhere else. And it wasn’t because he was working late at the office. I reached out and gripped my mother’s hand, offering a small squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” I meant it. I knew what it felt like to be betrayed and humiliated. I had a feeling this wasn’t something new for her, which made me even sadder.
“It’s fine, dear. Nothing to worry about.” She pulled her hand out from mine and straightened her back.
“Are you here for the day? Can I take you out for breakfast?”
She said that she wanted to see where I was living, but I was still confused as to why she was here. Was that really all it was? Curiosity?
She smiled for the first time since she’d arrived. “I would like that.”
