Page 97 of Doctor I Do

I answer and quickly realize when Mom sneers “Tahlia Adams”. That my world is going to be ripped apart.

Chapter 33

Tahlia

“How dare you lie to me to get your inheritance.” Her icy tone freezes my veins through the line.

I swear I stop breathing.

“Mom. I’m sorry, I can explain. I’m coming over right now,” I say in a hurry.

“You better have a good excuse. I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

I swallow the sickness threatening to spill. Everything around me is falling apart.

When I hang up the phone, Alex is looking at me, confused.

Mom knows I lied about our engagement is sitting at the end of my tongue. But they don’t come out, because I’m in a state of disbelief. And I need more details before I tell him. Especially now that work is paging him with an emergency. I don’t want to take him away from that. From his patients. They need him.

“I need to go to my parents’ house,” I say in the most composed voice I can muster.

His eyes widen as he dusts his hands of crumbs. “Now?” he asks.

I stand up, shaking my head and collecting my stuff. “Yeah, sorry. They. Ah. Need me for something.”

Margaret smiles and steps forward to hug me, and I didn’t realize how much I needed it.

“Thanks for dinner, and I’m sorry to cut this short,” I whisper as I take a step back. I was having such a good time. I could see how easy it would be to be a part of his life, his family. But now—

“It’s fine. Family first,” she says.

I swallow the guilt bubbling in my throat. “Thanks.”

“Just be sure to join us for next Sunday dinner, and at least you’ll meet the whole gang.”

I give her a warm smile. “That sounds nice.”

We say goodbye and on the drive, he gets another urgent call from the hospital.

He drops me off after some persuading not to come in. But he knows he has no choice when I remind him about work.

I walk up the steps to the house, and I don’t even need to bang on the door.

“Tahlia,” Mom’s cold voice says as she opens the door. My dad’s anger is radiating off him in waves.

I step inside, and we walk to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” Mom asks. Even angry, she won’t stop being polite.

“No. I just had one at Alex’s parents’ house.”

“Do they know?” my dad asks with a bite.

I nervously moisten my dry lips with my tongue before answering. “No. Only Maddison, Blake—"

“Everyone knows but us?” Mom asks curtly.

“Let me clarify what part,” I reply, holding on to hope they might be talking about something else.

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