Page 62 of Begin Again
I nod. “She was mad that I went there in the first place. She’s mad I don’t talk to her more. And she blames me for not being a better judge of character and for dating someone I worked with, as if that was the problem.”
“Did you tell her what happened?” he asks.
“A bit. Noah filled her in on the rest. But she still blames me. My therapist said it’s probably her way of projecting because shehates that she’s never been great at picking men to date, but it still sucks. Mom is amazing at victim shaming.”
“I’m sorry, Annie,” Sam says softly.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I wish I could go to the party with you, give her someone else to talk to.”
“Hopefully, she’ll be interested in Tally more than me so she won’t hyper-focus on the fact that I’m not getting married at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.”
I can practically hear Sam smirking.
“I am not going to tell her that I am married though, she’ll throw a huge fit about it, even if it is what she wants.”
“You could always tell her we started seeing each other, if she asks about your dating status,” he suggests.
“I know.” I sigh. “There are just more interesting things to talk about than whether or not I’ve found a man to settle down with. I would love to tell her about my restaurant, but she’d only laugh and tell me I need to get a real job. Or a husband who makes all the money. She can’t see how hypocritical it is given how many men she’s dated—yet never marries—but she still expects me to want to get married.”
I feel his hands tense. “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”
I reach up and touch his hand. “I know.” I turn to look at him, my shoulder brushing his chest as we stare at each other. “You aren’t, you haven’t. I really do want to see where this goes. I know I haven’t said that yet, but I would like to give this a chance. I think I just don’t want the reason I get married to be because my mom wanted that for me.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that you got married for me to have your insurance instead then, right?” He gives me a half smile, like he’s ready to keep making jokes so I smile, but he’ll stop if they don’t land.
“Exactly,” I say. “Now can you work on the knot on the left side? That one has been killing me for weeks.”
“Of course.” His hands are warm and the pressure on the knots feels good. I let myself fully relax, something I rarely do, but I trust him and that’s huge.
I don’t think about how in an hour I’ll have to spend time with my mom and I don’t let myself worry about what will happen with me and Sam once we get to Colorado. In this moment, I’m just letting myself enjoy this.
And for a few minutes, I get to feel like myself, something I haven’t felt in a really long time.
Far too soon, it’s time for the bachelorette party. I love Tally—she’s perfect for my brother—but I’ve hit my people limit for the day, and I don’t know how I’ll be able to pretend that I’m fully fine around everyone.
“You can do this, sunshine,” Sam whispers before he presses a kiss against my forehead. The elevator chime dings, signaling it’s time to get on and head downstairs and go our separate ways. The guys are going to a restaurant for dinner and soda—since none of them drink these days—and the girls are going to the resort’s spa, which Tally’s grandmother rented out for us tonight. I also hope there’s food because I’m already feeling hungry.
“I don’t know if I can,” I say as we step onto the elevator.
“Just stick with Tally or her sister, you don’t even have to talk to your mom if you don’t want to,” he says.
I want to believe him. I hope that she’ll be on her best behavior, but I’m mentally preparing myself for the worst andI’m already exhausted. “I’m going to need a week-long nap when we get home.”
He smiles. “Anything you need. Anything you want.”
I give his hand three squeezes. “Thank you for caring so much.”
“Always,” he says as the elevator reaches the ground floor. I look at him in wonder. How did I get so lucky that he cares for me so deeply? He lets go of my hand before we see anyone. He’s letting me take charge of when I want anyone to know about us, and right before my brother’s wedding? Probably not the best time.
We’re all meeting out by the pool and I hear the group before I see them. Mom’s laugh is loud and I’m already cringing. We turn the corner and I see them, all standing in a group. We’re the last to arrive.
Mom breaks away from her conversation with Noah and approaches Sam and I.
“Noah told me the two of you would be coming down together, but I told him I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it for myself.” Mom gives Sam a hug first, something that I’m not surprised by, but it still stings. Then she reaches for me. “My darling girl!”
Mom always goes over the top the first few minutes we always see each other. I don’t know if it’s because she feels guilty that we haven’t talked in ages, or if she really wants to try harder this time. But I know her praise will only last so long, before she’ll find something to criticize.
