Page 74 of Shattered Dreams

“That’s not what the article says,” she sneers.

“I don’t care what the article says! Your daughter is telling you it’s not true. That the man you’re so keen on defending is a monster, yet you sit here and attack me.” My voice rises as I stand from the table, completely done with this conversation.

“You had a man that was well off with a stable income and instead you settle for the back-up twin,” she says, her voice even like she isn’t breaking my heart.

She was never warm or really even kind as a mother, but I guess some part of me hoped she loved me. Now I’m not even sure of that.

“Back-up twin?” I say with utter disbelief.

“Adira and I still talk. I read her interview. I know you had a thing with Ezra before he died. Now you’re with his identical twin brother. That’s a little trashy, don’t you think?”

I blink slowly. Almost convinced I’m dreaming and not actually having this conversation in public. Unable to believe that my own mother just called me trash without asking me a single real question about my feelings or my relationship.

I want to scream. I want to scream until my lungs give out and my throat bleeds. It’s no wonder Ezra hid his sexuality from these people. I’m in a loving, committed relationshipwith a man, and I’m being attacked. I couldn’t even imagine the reactions if Kai was a woman.

“I’m going to give you the courtesy you don’t deserve,” I say, still standing in front of the table. I can feel the eyes of everyone else in the place on us. I’m sure there are a few phones out taking videos right now. So I say the next part clear enough for everyone to hear, phones included. “I have never been with, nor have I had any interest in being with Ezra. Kai is the love of my life. I’ve loved him since I was a child, and he feels the same way. I don’t know why his mother or mine are trying to pin us against each other, but it won’t work.”

Mom rolls her eyes, and I can see she wants to speak, but I don’t give her the opportunity.

“As for Brad, he abused me. There are medical and police records. I will be handing this article over to my lawyer and filing a defamation suit against the publishers.” I grab the magazine that was sitting on the table and turn to leave. Before I do, I look over my shoulder at the woman who raised me. “Don’t contact me again unless it’s with an apology. Even then, I probably won’t answer.”

I walk as casually as I can out of the restaurant, holding my head high and trying not to break down. As predicted, I see my brother’s car in the spot right up front. I make a beeline for it and practically throw myself into the passenger seat.

“What the — Belle?” Cal asks, eyes wide. I definitely startled him. “What happened?”

I burst into tears and can barely hear Cal’s panicked questions over my sobs. I hand him the magazine that I have clutched in my fist. It’s the best I can do at themoment.

The tears slow and my vision clears enough to see the anger on my brother’s face as he reads the article. I didn’t even bother. The title was enough to tell me it was full of lies.

“I’m calling Frank,” Cal says, pulling up the contact on his phone. They quickly discuss the article and Frank says he’ll get right on it. It’s a quick conversation and I’m starting to really like how quickly and efficiently Frank works.

I find some fast-food napkins in the glove compartment and clean up my face.

“What can I do?” Cal asks quietly.

“It wasn’t the article. It was Mom,” I tell him, looking at my hands instead of his face. He didn’t want me to go in there alone, and I insisted I would be fine. I don’t want to look at theI-told-you-soexpression on his face. So I recap my very quick lunch with our mom while picking at my cuticles and sniffling.

“Speak of the devil,” he practically growls. I look up at him. That reaction was unexpected. I knew he wouldn’t be happy, but he usually makes excuses for Mom. His face is red, and he looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him.

Our mother is striding up to his car, looking like someone peed in her martini.

“What?” Cal barks as he puts down his window.

I watch my mom’s steps falter. Cal never speaks to her with anything more than minor annoyance.

“Callahan. Your sister left without paying her bill,” she whines. My jaw drops at the utter audacity of this woman.

“And what did my sister order?” Cal asks while gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. The car isn’t evenrunning. Which might be a blessing, considering Cal’s current state.

“A garden salad with steak tips, but I don’t see why that matters,” my mom says while looking at the door to the restaurant. I can see the server there, his arms crossed. Clearly, she told him she was going out to get the money to pay the bill, and he’s babysitting her. A small spark of petty joy hits me when I realize how embarrassing this must be for her.

Cal reaches into his back pocket, grabs his wallet, and throws a couple of bills out of the window.

“This won’t be enough to cover the entire bill,” she says as she scrambles to get the bills he dropped.

“It’s more than enough to cover Belle’s salad. Goodbye, Paula.” Cal puts his window back up and starts the engine.

Once we’re away from the nightmare that birthed us, I feel like I can breathe.

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