“Audie.” Her eyes glitter. “Have you slept with this boy?”
“God, Mom, that’s none of your business!”
“Sure it is. I’m your mother—”
“I’m eighteen! I’m an adult.”
“Have you slept with him or not?”
“No, I haven’t.” Technically, I haven’t, although the things we’ve done together... I feel a hot flush creep up my neck.
“Hm.” My mom gives me a suspicious look, then turns back to the counter where she’s setting out the chopping board and knife. “You don’t want to be with someone like him.”
“Really. And what is he like?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You’re only eighteen, Audie. What’s your rush? There’re plenty of boys out there.”
“You don’t understand.” I watch her take out vegetables and cheese from the fridge and my heart clenches. “I really like him.”
“You’ll get over him. Give it some time.”
“He was here for me.” I bite my tongue before I blurt the whole thing out—the attack at the campus, Ash defending me, carrying me. Mom would freak out and the last thing I want is her deciding it’s too dangerous for me living here alone.
“I’m here for you,” she says softly, and I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I’m too angry to stop myself.
“Not really. I spent Christmas with Ash.”
She turns around, her eyes narrowed. “I see. And just because you spent Christmas day with him, he’s more important to you now than me?”
Tears burn my eyes. “Come on, Mom, don’t do this.”
“Not doing anything.”
But she is. She’s making it sound like I have to choose between them.
“Audie, you barely know him.” She frowns. “I can’t believe you went from avoiding him to defending him so fast.”
I take a knife and start cutting a zucchini into small cubes, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve known him most of my life. I’ve been in love with him for many years, Mom.”
“Honestly, girl.” Mom stabs a tomato like she wants to murder it. “I’d know if that was true.”
“Dad knew. And Tessa.”
Her lips purse. I’d always been closer to Dad rather than her. It wounds her, and I know that, but what can I do?
We cut vegetables in tense silence for a while, and she throws them in a pot. She’s making her wine stew, which I love, but I can’t relax.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come for Christmas,” she finally says. “You know I had work.”
“I know, Mom.”
“I’m not asking you to choose between us, honey.” She glances at me sideways as she heaps spices into the pot. “But promise me you’ll think about it before seeing him again. That boy’s trouble, always has been. You’re a good, intelligent young woman. You could have anyone you wanted.”
I shake my head and don’t answer. Because the one I want is Ash.
***
We eat, s