Page 90 of Toxic

"Don't be dramatic," she claims.

I make a U-turn, shift, then hit the accelerator. The rest of the ride is quiet until I pull through the gate. When I park, I warn, "One of these days, you're going to push me too far, Bridge."

She opens the door and finally meets my gaze. "And there it is. The real Dante who gets bored has now stepped forward."

"Jesus, Bridget! It has nothing to do with being bored, and you know it. Are you ever going to get past old shit?" I roar.

She lifts her chin, throwing green daggers my way. "Never. I'm never getting past anything because I'm always going to remember who you are, Dante. The last thing I'll do is be your fool twice." She jumps out of the car and runs up the steps.

I watch her disappear into the house while fighting the urge to follow her. Instead, I slam my hand on the wheel, debating my options, not sure how I'm ever going to convince her she's mine.

Pissed at myself, I replay the conversation, wishing I wouldn't have said anything until we were at dinner. I hate the reality of what she thinks of me, but I also let Sean down. And both things hurt equally.

18

Bridget

I slam the door,irritated Dante's been talking to Sean about boxing. He already knew how I felt about it. Everything about our conversation reminds me of how my father made a deal with Killian behind my back and upheaved my entire world.

It's another sign I shouldn't trust Dante. I curse myself for continuing to stay involved with him. I was starting to trust him again, even though I knew better.

At least he showed his true colors before I became even more invested.

Time to end whatever this is that's going on between us.

A sharp pain slices through my chest. I put my hand on the table, steadying myself and taking deep breaths.

Why does the thought of not being with Dante hurt so badly?

I need to get a grip. The only thing I should be focusing on is my kids.

When my anxiety relaxes, I pull my phone out of my purse, ready to text Dante that we can't continue seeing each other. Before I can, Sean turns the corner.

"Mom, did you talk to Dante?" Hope fills Sean's expression. I want to slap Dante for putting it there.

I straighten my shoulders, take a few steps forward, and place my hand on Sean's shoulder. I softly state, "The rules are the same. No boxing. I don't want you to get a concussion or get hurt so badly you have lifelong consequences."

Darkness fills Sean's green eyes. He shrugs out of my grasp, shakes his head, and seethes, "I told him it was pointless talking to you. Guess you made my decision for me."

New fear ignites in my belly. My attempt to keep my voice firm fails. It shakes as I question, "What are you talking about?"

Deep hatred shines in Sean's eyes. It's so painful to see, I swallow hard and have to force myself not to look away. He fumes, "I have the application to emancipate myself. I'm filing it with the court and moving to Chicago."

The room spins so fast that I fight through dizziness. "Sean—"

"No! I'm tired of listening to everyone telling me to be nice to you or not to do anything drastic. The only thing I had to hold me here until I graduated was the thought of training with Dante. He's just as talented as any O'Malley, but you couldn't give me that, could you? You took my family away, lied to me for years, and can't even let me try to be who I'm supposed to be," he hurls.

Tears stream down my face. I put both hands on Sean's cheeks. "Sean, please. Listen to me. I know you're angry and confused. I don't blame you. But you're my son. I will not let you do this."

"You can't stop me,Mom," he sarcastically asserts.

My hands tremble. "Sean—"

He grabs my hands and holds them between us. "Don't touch me ever again. From now on, you're nothing to me."

My stomach dives as my world crumbles around me. "Sean, please!"

He releases me and stomps to the door. I follow him. He throws it open, stepping out into the cold air.

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