Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 80
Holy fuck. I’d said too much—and yet it felt so good. I couldn’t stop. My sister was looking down at the floor, but my mother’s eyes were like daggers. “Having sex was a mutual decision—and it didn’t hurt anybody.”
My mother had had enough. “You don’t think it hurt your children?”
Suddenly, I was craving sweet nicotine—but I wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, come on, mom. You can’t be serious. Justin has been more of a father figure to my kids than Kent or Mike has ever been or ever will be. Neither of them has been involved in the kids’ day-to-day lives like Justin.”
“But the example you’re setting—”
“Setting how, mom? Showing them a loving relationship rather than an uncaring or abusive one? Do you think I’d be better off still being married to Mike?” Trying to keep my voice calm but failing, I spat, “Please don’t tell me you think I’d be better off with Mike.”
“I didn’t say that. But casual sex, Randi? How does casual sex constitute a loving relationship?”
Willing my heart to stop beating so hard, I lowered my voice. “I’m talking about our relationship now.”
As my mother let out a heavy sigh, she waved a hand curtly, so I turned my head to see my father standing in the doorway. Fucking A. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t find out now—but I didn’t need my mother to have an ally in this fucking fight. She asked, “What does that mean?”
I’d probably already lost the battle—but I wasn’t about to give up. “I mean that Justin and I made the decision to have a committed, exclusive relationship. And, yes, he is moving in with us.” Although now, for all I knew, he would be leaving, but I wasn’t about to say that right now.
And, despite, my mother’s unspoken request, my father simply couldn’t help himself. “You’re living with this Justin fellow?”
Now I was on trial. Even before today, I knew my family pictured my afterlife surrounded by the flames of hell, but it no long mattered. I looked my father squarely in the eye, forced myself to maintain it, because he had been the one man I’d always tried to please and failed at miserably since about the age of nineteen. It was time to let all that shit go, though, because if I couldn’t be honest with these people, then what the hell kind of relationship did we have anyway?
It was time to come completely clean.
“Yes. He moved in earlier this month.”
I could see through his eyes dozens of thoughts racing through his mind and I expected one hell of a tongue lashing. Ultimately, though, he leaned back on his usual admonition. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that pretty much my life story?” My father got ready to speak, but I didn’t stop. “Have I made any decisions as an adult that you haven’t been disappointed in?” Goddammit, it was difficult, but I maintained eye contact as if it were the last thing I’d ever do.
“Why do you think I keep asking you to move in with your mother and me? I thought we could be a positive influence on you.”
“No, dad, you wanted to run my life the way you thought it should be run.” A tear dropped from one eye, but I kept the words coming. “I’m not a little girl anymore, dad, and I’m not you. I’m not mom. I’m not even like Megan. I’m me. And you either accept me the way I am or not. I can’t pretend to be someone else.”
That was it. I was done. And I watched my father as his jaw turned to steel, no longer ready to speak. As another tear fell, I noticed that my mouth felt suddenly dry—and I took my father’s silence as his answer. I allowed my eyes to shift from him to first my sister and then my mother.
More silence.
Uncomfortable fucking silence.
That was all the answer I needed, so I moved past my father and out of the room. My brother-in-law stood in the hallway where he’d apparently been listening to the drama. When I got closer, he averted his eyes and I walked past him, too. All I could think was that I was glad the kids had been out of earshot.
Stopping by the bathroom to grab some tissue, I swiped at my nose and eyes, but the tears just kept fucking dropping. I tried splashing cool water on my face, but I was a complete wreck. All my makeup was gone, the mascara and eyeliner smeared under my eyes. I took another tissue, wiping away as much of the black as I could, but there was no disguising my red eyes and splotchy cheeks.
Still, the tears kept flowing.
When I exited the bathroom, I could hear my family mumbling in the kitchen, but I just didn’t give a shit anymore. Let them say what they would. My verbal explosion meant I’d pretty much severed any ties I had with them, so let them fucking talk. Letting out a slow breath, I began my descent into the basement to fetch my own progeny, and then I’d walk out the door with my head held high. I’d meant what I said. No longer would I live a double life, trying to appear as the “good girl” I thought my parents wanted and expected from me—and if that meant we couldn’t spend time together as a family anymore, so be it. I also knew, in the back of my mind, that it meant I had no control over where the chips fell from here on out—not just missing turkey, but grandparents no