Page 31 of The Renter
“So I learned …The Renter, his name is Adam.”
“Dani,” she scolds again.
“He’s a great guy. Things are getting a little complicated. He’s pretty high-profile, and if I keep seeing him, I need to sign this.” I fan the NDA in front of her.
Unamused, she starts pacing.
“He’s a big deal in the investment world,” I say after a pause. “That’s why he’s been so helpful in connecting me with potential new clients.”
“A rich guy won’t fix your problems,” she says, stopping to look at me. “When will you learn that?”
Fuck off, Mom!I scream internally.
“How many times are you going to get burned before you realize that world isn’t for you?”
“Oh, so feminist of you. Whatismy place, then? In a shit house like this?”
She rolls her eyes. “Those people are born into it. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with trying to be like them.”
There’s so much to unpack in that one sentence, but I don’t even want to go there.
“I’m still scarred from the last time you lived here,” she adds.Scarred!I want to scream.I was the one who was scarred!“It was a disaster,” she huffs.
That disaster … it’s a small town. She’ll find out soon enough. “I saw him the other day. Before you?—”
“Yousawhim? Sorin?”
“I was at Starbucks with Kelsey, and he was there.”
“I’ll call the lawyer and see about reinstating the restraining order.”
Declan’s right—this is starting to feel way too much like my last summer in Wisconsin.
“A guy …” I start hesitantly. “A guy that’s in the Crows … He said he would take care of it.”
I see the stress emerge on my mom’s face at the mention of the Polish mafia, and I raise my finger, knowing I need to get the next part out before she explodes.
“There’s something else. Before you hear it around town … Adam, the guy I’m seeing, he punched Sorin.”
“What a catch.”
“Mom, he was?—”
“Dani, I don’t like this. This feels like when you ran off with Sorin.” We hold a long stare before she adds, “Why do you always regress when you come back here?”
“Maybe it’s the trauma I’ve experienced,” I spit back.
“I know, we wereterribleparents,” she says, throwing her arms up dramatically. “We’resoterrible. Letting you live here rent-free after you went bankrupt—justthe worstparents ever.”
I roll my eyes.
“If you’re not going to focus on getting back on your feet, you’ll need to find somewhere else to stay,” she says firmly. “I can’t handle another summer like the last one.” With that, Mom leaves my room.
I feel deflated. I wish I could tell her how excited I am about what’s happening between Adam and me. But—she wouldn’t hear it. Her narrow view of the world has her convinced he’s no good for me.
My relationship with my parents has always been tense. Well, ever since Dad went to rehab when I was twelve. It’s likeI had two childhoods: pre- and post-rehab. Abundance, then scarcity. Laughter, then walking on eggshells.
My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts.
