At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

“That is not—”

“Go!” she shouted. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Mom’s eyes rounded. “Seriously? Just like that, you’re going to turn your back on your daughter?”

A tear slid from Gran’s eye. She looked away from her. “You’re not my daughter.”

My mom’s jaw dropped at those words. Not because of the pain that she’d caused her own mother, but because she wasn’t going to get her way. Maddox and I stepped in front of her.

“Go,” I repeated. “You’ve done enough damage.”

She opened her mouth again, but Maddox muscled her forward out of the room. “It’s over,” he growled before shutting the door after she left.

I rushed to Gran’s side. “Are you okay?”

Gran vacantly looked off. “No, honey, I’m not. I should have done that a long time ago.”

I agreed but didn’t say so. “What can I do?”

She patted my hand. “Just sit here with me.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, even as I saw her face harden. “Both of my daughters… gone to me. Hannah was always troubled, but I thought if I was there for her, then she’d come around. She never did. And Ruth…” She coughed around the pain. “Well, Ruth never wanted anything to do with me. I haven’t even seen her in over a decade. I’ve tried, but she wants nothing to do with me. I doubt she’s coming today. No matter what Hannah said.” She reached for me and Maddox. “At least I have you two. My two children.”

Maddox came to her other side and touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Gran. Mom is the worst.”

Gran looked between us and said solemnly, “Don’t ever mention them in my presence again.”

I swallowed hard at those words. I’d long ago written off my mother and aunt. But hearing that it had finally gotten through to Gran… that was a whole new level of pain. I hated it for her. That she finally saw the world for how it really was. That bad people didn’t change. They kept taking advantage of hospitality as long as it was offered. Seeing that realization on my Gran’s face made everything so much worse. As if it had drained the life from her too.

I held her hand helplessly. It was all I could do.

“We’ll have next semester, Gran,” I whispered once a nurse came in and gave her something to fall asleep. “I’ll be here all the time. You’ll feel better, and we’ll do all the fun things together. I’ll be the daughter you never had.”

37

Savannah

Present — Derek

Ash answered the door already holding a beer. His brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

I hefted a bottle of whiskey. “Care for something harder?”

His eyes held mine. Ash and I had been friends for a long time. Our parents had thrown us together as kids. Despite me being two years older, we hung out all the way through college. Only drifting apart when I was gone at Harvard and then hanging out more when I returned without Marley, a brokenhearted idiot. He’d been the best man at my wedding. He knew when something was up.

“Always,” Ash said, throwing the door wide.

That was the best part about our friendship. Neither of us ever had to fucking talk about it. He’d eventually heard what had gone down with Marley. I obviously knew all the nuances of his relationship with the infamous Delilah Greer. But we never made the other talk before he was ready.

And tonight, if I was honest, I’d prefer to get drunk and forget that conversation with Mars entirely. She hadn’t been wrong. It had been impossible to argue. Though I’d fucking tried. I wanted her. I’d always wanted her. One kiss in my parents’ house at a Halloween party had sealed that long ago. But that didn’t change how fucked up our relationship was time and time again.

Was I an idiot for pursuing her while working against her? A hundred percent.

Would I do it all over again? Every. Single. Time.

I opened the bottle of Four Roses and poured us each a glass. I downed mine before Ash even picked his up and then poured another. Ash took the drink, swirling it around and sipping on it. It wasn’t actually for shooting. I just needed something to burn on the way down.

“What are you watching?” I asked instead of answering the look from my best friend. I could hear a game on in the background.

“The end of the Ole Miss-Auburn game.”

I took another sip. “Who’s winning?”

“Auburn has been leading the whole game. Ole Miss is trying to make a comeback.”

“Good,” I said, not really caring either way.

Ash took his drink back to the couch, and we sat in silence for the final five minutes of the game. Auburn clinched their win. Neither of us had been raised on SEC football, but it was hard to grow up in Georgia and not hate both teams. Either of them losing felt like a victory.