Lover (Court University 4)

His sigh fell he

avy.

“I’m not saying it won’t take time. Effort, but I’m imploring you to give my mother the benefit of the doubt. To not,” his voice thickened, “to not default to your fallback. To not run. Not this time.”

I cringed, unable to help it. I couldn’t see how I looked from his eyes, but I knew how all this felt inside. I was being unraveled piece by piece.

He braced my head, his mouth to my ears. “I want you to fight for us. Fight through the grit and whatever comes next. Fight as hard as I will.”

I touched my forehead to his chest, my fist balled when he worked his arms around me. I had no idea how long we stood there like that, and by the end, I felt drained. Like I’d physically died in his arms. I knew whatever I did next, we both did next, might affect our entire lives. For me, it would.

I couldn’t see a life different from this moment now. My life had changed with him in it, and I wasn’t sure if I could change back. That’d be like rewinding time. Impossible.

Impossible.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ramses

Weekly taco night occurred at my house this week. But that was because my mom bombarded me with it after I repeatedly ignored her phone calls and texts. One better, she showed up with the new man she was apparently dating.

“And then the guy says to me…” James chuckled, head actually thrown back like he couldn’t contain himself before the rest of the joke even hit. He put his hands out. “Is that cheese on the table or an oil slick?”

Full blown laughter. Full fucking blown at the twenty-fifth dad joke I’d had to endure at my dining room table in under an hour. James was full of them, a man I knew from the country club. This wasn’t a small city, but small enough for everyone in the city’s elite to know each other. Yeah, I knew this guy. Average with above average funds. His family came from oil and migrated here.

Currently, I had to entertain the fact he took every opportunity he had to place his hand on my mother’s, hers wrapped round his bicep as she simply roared at the dad-shit he said. I endured it behind a glass of Merlot, my attention only half there before James said my name.

“I think we’ve lost him, Evie.” James chuckled once more, waving his hand. “I apologize. Once I get going, I run away with myself. I bore my own mother.”

More vibrant laughter from my mother, my smile forced as hell, but I had a tendency to wear that shit on my sleeve…

When I was miserable.

The ache was still there. The distance felt. It’d been all I had to stay focused at work today.

Mom panned to me, noticing that. Her smile fell a little, but it returned upon her sudden attempt to engage me in conversation. She’d been trying to do that all night, the two of them having a completely coupled conversation. She’d been aware of my silence and once more, tried to fix the problem.

“Looks like the table could use more wine,” I said, ducking out of the latest attempt. Pardon me, but I didn’t feel up for it. I rose. “Be back.”

I didn’t come back. I stayed in the fucking kitchen with the chilled bottle in my hand. I was about two seconds from downing another glass right there when my mom did come in.

She looked fabulous as always, appearing only a fraction of her age in cigarette pants and a nice blouse. She’d put on makeup today. I assumed for James. Her arms folded. “Are you going to be miserable all night?”

“It depends.” Pulling out a corkscrew, I got right into opening that bottle of wine. I popped the cork. “Is James going to tell dad jokes all night? Oh, and am I expected to call him Dad? You know, when you guys get married.”

I was being a proper asshole. I’d blame it on being slightly intoxicated from the wine and the couple of tumblers of scotch I’d had before that. But, at the end of the day, I held my liquor pretty well. I was being an asshole because I was being an asshole in that moment, and Mom didn’t give the reaction she normally would. She didn’t hold me accountable or anything like that. She just stood there. She frowned there, and the expression pinched her lips tight.

Her manicured fingers danced along her arm. “You’re the one who told me to date, Ramses.” Her eyes lifted, her sigh full. “And now, you’re upset.”

We both knew how I was reacting tonight had nothing to do with that. Of course, I wanted her to date. I always wanted her to be happy.

Too bad she didn’t want the same for me.

I’d left Bri after that bullshit in her office knowing full well I’d have no idea when I’d see my girlfriend again. I didn’t call her or text her. It’d been nearly two fucking days, and I already felt on the brink of goddamn breaking.

That was the power Brielle had over me, the love I had for her. Because I loved her, I wasn’t calling or texting her. We needed to sort out this shit with my mom first, and I didn’t want to add anything more to her plate.

In the meantime, I had to pretend nothing was wrong, but I didn’t have to stand around and endure any more of this shit.