Page 105 of Nine Months to Love
I called her family social climbers. Told her they were beneath me. I wanted to hurt her. The fucked-up part is, I didn’t even mean it. I was just angry and lashing out because I didn’t know what else to do.
Now, she’s in there with her father, almost certainly telling him what an asshole I am. And she’d be right.
The tip of my pen hovers.
I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know if I can.
But I have to try. Because losing her?—
I stop and scratch out the start of that last bit. Some things are too dangerous to write down. Even when it’s for my eyes only.
A sharp tap on the window makes me jump.
I look up.
Margaret Aster stands beside my car, perfectly coiffed even at this hour, wearing a cream cashmere sweater and pearls. Her smile is bright. Predatory.
Fuck.
I lower the window.
“Why, Stefan!” she crows. “What are you doing parked outside my house?”
“Just waiting on Olivia. She’s visiting with her dad.”
“And she didn’t ask you to join her?” Margaret’s eyebrows lift in exaggerated shock. “Really, sometimes that girl has no manners. I did raise her better than that.”
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. The urge to tell her exactly what I think of her parenting skills is almost overwhelming.
“It’s fine,” I say. “She needed some time with her father.”
“Nonsense. You shouldn’t be sitting out here in the cold.” She gestures toward the house. “Come inside. I insist.”
I consider refusing. I could make up some excuse, tell her I have calls to make, work to do, literally anything that would get me out of this.
But Olivia is in there. And if I leave now, if I refuse her mother’s invitation, it’ll only make things worse.
So I tuck my journal back out of sight and get out of the car.
Margaret links her arm through mine like we’re old friends. “I’m so glad you’re here. We have so much to discuss.”
She leads me up the steps and through the front door. Every surface gleams, tacky with polish. Every piece of furniture looks like it belongs in a museum. There’s no warmth here. No life.
Margaret calls out as we enter. “Olivia, darling! Look who I found lurking outside.”
I hear movement from the back of the house. Footsteps.
Then Olivia appears in the doorway to the kitchen.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. Her mouth opens, then closes. She looks pale and tired. There are shadows under her eyes that weren’t there this morning.
Margaret releases my arm and turns to her daughter. “Really, Olivia. Leaving Stefan outside in his car like that. What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t—” Olivia starts, then stops.
She glances at me. I can see the question in her eyes.Why are you here? Why didn’t you leave?
I give a slight shrug and say nothing.
