Page 33 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
12
HOLLIE
Telling my parents someone had died likely would have gotten a better reaction than the wordmarried.
Standing in their lounge next to a roaring fireplace that washes my legs with waves of warmth, my father paces back and forth in front of the door leading to the kitchen, while my mother repeatedly switches between sitting and standing.
“Married?” she yelps upon standing once more. “You ran away and got married? Are you insane? How could you do this? How could you do this without telling us?”
“You’re not in any position to be married,” Dad retorts sharply. “That isn’t something you do at the drop of a hat. How long have you even known each other?”
“A few months,” Maxim replies from where he stands next to me, but whatever else he might say is silenced by a furious glare from my father. It’s like his entire presence offends them and I understand it.
But I can’t back out. Not now. Not if I want to keep them alive.
Thankfully, Maxim has enough sense to remain quiet. “We met a few months ago and hit it off,” I explain, the lie flowing easier now. “When you know, you know, right? I mean you and Mom got married really quickly.”
“Things were different back then,” Mom gasps, sitting on the couch. “Things were more personal than they are now. Now it’s all phones and electronics and secrets. How could you do this to me? You know how much I wanted to see you get married, how much your father deserved to walk you down the aisle. How could you take this away from us?”
I have no answers. Witnessing them being this upset pains me more than I can put into words because everything they’re saying is correct. In an ideal world, things would have been very different and my parents would have been involved every step of the way. But this isn’t a dream.
It’s life and death.
“Mrs. Taggert’s son did this,” Mom weeps softly. “Her son eloped without a word and came back three years later with two kids and a divorce. God, it was shameful, and now this will happen to us. Hollie, I raised you better! What on earth were you thinking?”
My hands flex uselessly as I search for words. “It was… it was a romantic whirlwind, what can I say? We were in love and the timing felt right, the night was beautiful, and it was just… I can’t explain it.”
“Who was your witness, hmm? How did you even pay for something like that so quickly?”
“Well, Maxim’s friends were there and he paid?—”
“So you’re the money bags?” Dad glares at Maxim but thankfully, Maxim remains silent like a shadow just out of sight. “Hollie, did you even sign a prenup or anything like that? Did you think about what this will do to your taxes? To yourlife? Do you understand your credit or anything?”
He’s throwing blow after verbal blow at me and I scarcely keep up. But I do answer honestly. “No, I didn’t and thought about none of that.”
“Hollie!” Mom whines, and she’s on her feet again. “How old are you, anyway?”
All eyes land on Maxim, and he clears his throat. “Thirty-six.”
“What the hell are you doing sniffing around a twenty-five-year-old?” Dad nearly bursts a blood vessel.
“Don’t start,” I snap before Maxim has a chance to respond. “You both have a twelve-year age gap, so don’t even think of pretending to be astonished at that.”
“It was different back then,” Mom whines.
I roll my eyes despite the way my heart breaks at their distress. “Hardly. If it’s wrong now, then it was wrong back then, and you two need to reevaluate.”
“Don’t speak to your mother that way!” Dad halts his pacing.
“What way? She’s the one who told me not to come home for Thanksgiving. She’s the one who signed me up for things I didn’t agree to. So I listened and didn’t come home, and now that I’m here trying to share this with you, you’re both acting like I’ve done something truly unforgivable! You can’t have it both ways. You can’t treat me like I’m an inconvenience or a place mat and then get mad when I decide to do my own thing!”
“You’re our daughter,” Dad remarks sharply. “We will treat you how we see fit!”
“And I don’t need to stand for it! You can accept this and let things go back to normal or we can keep going in circles until you realize the real reason you both weren’t included is because of how you treat me!”
They don’t accept it. The argument continues and delves into the various ways this is disrespectful, the shame I’ve brought to them and the family, even the ruined food from Thanksgiving that was saved for me. Not once do they offer congratulations or even ask about Maxim as a person.
And I don’t blame them.
