Page 15 of Thorns of Deceit
Reina: I think we’re all ready to spread our wings.
Phoenix:
My brows knitted at Phoenix’s strange response, but before I could question it, my phone pinged again.
Isla: Paris won’t be able to handle us. BTW, my brother hooked us up with a sweet deal. An apartment in the 5th arrondissement. He’s insisting on covering it while we’re in college so we can keep some pocket money. Translation… shopping!!
A breath swished out of my lungs at the news. Yesterday, that little detail would have made me exhilarated, but today, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had bigger problems at hand.
Namely, Aiden.
Exiting the group chat, I continued on my path of finding my husband. Now that I knew he was forced into this arrangement as well, and clearly he wasn’t thrilled about the marriage, maybe I could convince him of alternatives. The two of us could agree on separation and then ultimately a divorce.
Good plan, I thought, and suddenly, I had a purpose. Now, if I could just find my brand-spanking-new husband.
I went from room to room, even discovered a gym, only to learn the penthouse was empty. When I got to the kitchen, I spotted a note on the counter.
Feel free to explore the penthouse. I won’t be long. A.
“So much for discussing a divorce over coffee,” I muttered, disappointment washing over me.
I didn’t particularly care that he’d left before showing me around, but it irked me that he didn’t even bother with a proper goodbye. Maybe because it proved my mom’s lesson right yet again. Men couldn’t be trusted to follow through with anything.
I exhaled, rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, then crossed my arms. I’d do well to remember that none of this was real. And anyway, my mom had taught me well:lower your expectations when it comes to men and you won’t get hurt.
I stood barefoot in the middle of the kitchen, debating what to do. I could go check on my mother, if only I had something to wear. I still only had Aiden’s T-shirt and boxers, and while New York was home to some weird shit, I didn’t think my wardrobe would go unnoticed.
“Maybe I’ll just call her,” I said to the empty room, then dialed her up.
The ringing went on and on, and just as I was about to hang up, my mom’s voice came through the line.
“Hello, baby.”
I smiled despite hearing a slight slur. I was used to it by now, and while I preferred her sober, I knew she was doing her best. My mom was a functioning alcoholic who loved me and did her best to provide for me. She worked a string of menial jobs over the years—cleaning, restocking shelves, being a janitor—keeping us afloat even as we moved place to place while she fought her own demons.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Where are you, Raven?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. I didn’t want to upset her, and I was fairly certain dumping on her what had happened would send her spiraling. So, I settled for half-truths.
“I spent the night at a… friend’s house.”
“I didn’t think your friends lived close by.”
My mom might be drunk a lot, and I might have spent more time away at boarding school than here the last few years, but she always had a finger on the pulse when it came to my life. She knew Athena was my oldest friend, that we’d met at school andclicked instantly. And that a few years later, Isla, Phoenix, and Reina completed our small circle of ride-or-die friendship.
I quickly changed the subject. “Do you need me to stop at the store?”
Mom let out a tired breath. “Sometimes I wonder how you turned out to be so thoughtful.”
“Duh, I got it from you,” I said. “Clearly.”
“Not sure about that,” she mumbled, almost to herself. “But you certainly didn’t get it from your father.”
I stilled, surprised she’d brought him up.
“He was selfish, then,” I said softly, tentatively.
