The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

Her frown deepened, as if she struggled to remember.

She didn’t have to. I did. “You’ve always wanted to get married. And I’m the reason you couldn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, reeling backward in shock.

“I ran so many guys off, Mom. Remember the agriculture guy from Australia, the one who I pretended to be afraid of his dog?”

“Nick?” she asked, as though she hadn’t thought of him in years. “Honey, you didn’t drive him off. I broke up with him.”

“Right, but you broke up with him because of his dog. Because of me,” I insisted.

She shook her head. “I broke up with him because he just expected I would uproot us from our lives and our family and our home to move to his ranch in Australia with him.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t have moved to Australia for love,” I said, almost an accusation.

“I wouldn’t have. Not if it meant you were going to grow up so far away from your grandparents.” There was no wavering in her response. No doubt at all.

Still, I felt the need to challenge her, rather than believe her. “What about the youth pastor from that weird church you took me to a couple of times?”

The look she gave me answered the question better than words ever could have. There had probably been a very good reason she’d cut that guy loose.

“Sophie, the only effect you ever had on my dating life was when I had to make choices that would have been healthy for both of us,” she explained. “Sometimes, those choices sucked. And yes, there were men who went on one or two dates with me before they decided that they didn’t want a package deal. But most of the men I’ve dated? I’ve been the one to walk away. Because I didn’t want someone to settle for me, and I didn’t want to settle for anyone. I wanted true love. I wanted perfection. And I got that. And I got that because of you.”

My chest hurt and I cried harder.

She went on, “Just because I’m...uncomfortable with the way things are in your personal life doesn’t mean I don’t love you. And I don’t resent you for being a normal, jealous kid. You are the very best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t like your choices, and I sure as hell don’t like the fact that I have to live with them. But I love you.”

That was a little too love-the-sinner-hate-the-sin for my tastes, but I supposed I had to take it or leave it. The thought of just walking away from my mom, no matter how much her feelings about my relationship hurt me, wasn’t one I could entertain. Maybe I needed to grow a spine and stand up for myself. Maybe I was enabling some kind of prejudice and I should be ashamed of that. But having just one parent and living with a constant fear of abandonment wasn’t something a person lived through unscathed. I’d grown up knowing my mom loved me, but also knowing what some kids didn’t; that a parent could opt out. That they could walk away. While most of my childhood fears had centered around my mom dying and leaving me an orphan, a small, mean part of me still, to that very day, insisted that a mother’s love didn’t have to be unconditional and that if I was so unlovable to one parent, I could easily become so to another.

“Sophie? Are you not saying anything right now because you don’t believe me?” She knew me too well.

I nodded. “And I know you hate when I do that. But I don’t know any other way to be.”

“I know.” She reached over and rubbed my arm, squeezing my shoulder sympathetically. After a long moment, she asked, “What time would you want to have dinner on Sunday? Keep in mind, Tony and I have mass, and it’s a long drive to your place.”

The pain in my chest eased a little. “Let me talk to Neil and El-Mudad and get back with you.”

She nodded cautiously. “Sophie...I don’t want to be cruel. I really don’t. But the rest of the family—“

“Wouldn’t understand. I know.” I would never even attempt to let my extended family, especially not my grandmother, find out about my unconventional immediate family. “Trust me, we’re planning to keep it under wraps. El-Mudad is going to visit his daughters in Paris the week of your wedding.”

She didn’t breathe a sigh of relief, but her posture certainly changed. “I’m sorry to even ask.”

I shrugged. “Look, we know there are going to be challenges. We’ve spent a long time talking through them. Trust me to know what’s best for me, okay? And trust me to think things through in a smart way. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed reluctantly. “I hate that, but you’re not.”