Page 77 of Breathe You (Breathe Duet 2)

I lower my eyes to the floor, and she takes my silence as permission to continue.

“Did Eric ever tell you I got married a few years ago?”

I can’t help the scoff that floats out of me as I lock my heavy stare on her again.

“Congratulations. I don’t see why that’s any business of mine though.”

“It is. You see…you have a sister, Valentina. She’s four now, and I would really like it if you could meet her.”

I didn’t think it was possible for my mother to hurt me any more than she already has in the past, but somehow, she’s succeeded in doing so.

“A-A sister?” I stutter aghast.

“Yes,” my mother retorts with a sparkle in her rich chocolate brown eyes. “Her name is Kara.”

“And she’s four?” I repeat foolishly.

“Yes.” She nods with a proud grin splattered to her face.

Is this woman for real?!

After eight years of no contact whatsoever, not even one goddamn word or even a birthday card, she chooses now to lay this bomb on me?

I mean, who does this?

My mother, that’s who.

It’s official. The woman is either psychotic or so self-involved, she has no idea how hurtful it is to hear her admit that she just went about her life as normal after she left us. Especially considering I just lost the only parent who actually gave a shit about me.

“As I see it, you’ve had four years to tell me of her existence. Why the sudden rush now?” I manage to say, proud that my voice comes out crisp and arctic instead of hurt.

“Val, you might hate me. And you have good cause for it, but don’t blame an innocent child for my shortcomings.”

“How did you know Dad was dead?” I ask, instead of keeping to the topic at hand.

I’d say about anything to steer clear from that heartache, even if it means summoning another.

“Your father and I still emailed each other once a month after we divorced. He knew that you weren’t ready to open the lines of communication with me yet, but he wanted me to watch you grow up—even if from afar, and only in pictures and videos. He was always kind like that. Never one to hold grudges for long,” she explains wistfully, but all I feel is betrayal that my father gave this woman any knowledge of my wellbeing.

She didn’t deserve an ounce of his mercy. But she’s right. My father never held hate in his heart for anyone. I, on the other hand, have it in spades.“Last month, when he didn’t contact me, I got worried,” she continues.“Since we still had mutual friends back in Detroit, I reached out to as many as I could to find out if everything was alright with you both. But I guess I was too late. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to come in time for the funeral,” she states, sounding actually apologetic.

“I’m not. Trust me, your absence wasn’t felt.”

“That may be so, but I’m still sorry I wasn’t there. You should have had family with you.”

“I have my family,” I snap, my spine suddenly ramrod straight as I confront her.

“So I see,” she muses, looking behind me.

I throw a glance over my shoulder and see that Logan is planted in the threshold of our living room. He must have been there the whole time, wanting to make sure he’d be close in case I needed him. I want to smile at his protectiveness of me, but my mother’s presence robs any warm sentiment I may hold.

“I’ll be in town for the next couple of days, and I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me. Maybe tomorrow when you aren’t so busy,” she adds, as she takes stock of my knee length robe and Logan’s disheveled hair.

If she’s trying to get any insight into my life as it is now, my face gives nothing away.

“I’m staying at the Dilworth until Friday. I’d love it if you could come and maybe meet Kara if you are up for it.”

I bite my inner cheek at the mention of my little sister’s name.

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