Imperfect Affections

“These are so you,” she says. “Leon picked something that’s exactly your style.” She makes a puppy face. “He paid enough attention to you to get your taste right. Oh, my dear girl, you’re in trouble. That man cares about you.”

Snatching the box from her hands, I shut it and dump it on the nightstand. “You can’t say that just because he bought me expensive earrings.”

“It’s not about the value. It’s about the attention to detail. If he didn’t care, he would’ve gotten you something big and flashy. No, he spent time observing you. He had to. How else would he know you never wear anything but small stud earrings?”

If she knew why he gave them to me, how he gave them, her opinion will be very different.

“They’re perfect for you,” she gushes. “Oh.” She makes big eyes. “I get it. It was your wedding gift. How romantic. Did you wear them for your celebration dinner?”

Celebration fuck, not dinner, and the emphasis was on punishment rather than celebration. “He only gave them to me last night.”

Her eyes light up. “Why don’t you try them on?”

“Not now.” I don’t tell her I have no intention of wearing those earrings. Ever. “You must be hungry.” Heading for the door, I ask, “Shall we have lunch?”

“Violet, wait.”

I turn to face her.

“You trust Leon, right?”

The question catches me off guard. Do I? This morning, he said he wouldn’t hurt me, which was just code for promising not to kill me. He’s hurt me plenty of times and I have no doubt he’ll continue to do so, but those scars won’t show on my skin. They cut much deeper, leaving notches etched into my heart.

With regards to not putting a gun to my head and pulling the trigger, I do believe him. It wasn’t only the way in which the moment was stripped down to bone-deep truth, leaving no place for lies. A man like Leon wouldn’t lie about that. He doesn’t have to. If he wanted to threaten my life, he would’ve done so. He has no reason to lie or pretend.

“Honey?” My mom touches my shoulder, dipping her knees to put us on eye level. “Do you trust him?”

“Yes,” I say with conviction. “Leon will take care of me.”

The creases on her forehead smooth out. “Good. That’s my impression as well. He was too invested in marrying you, even when he knew it wouldn’t secure him the partnership.”

Biting my lip, I weigh my words. “Did Gus tell you why he changed his mind?”

“And made Elliot a partner? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe Elliot finally started pulling his weight.”

“Maybe,” I say, not meeting her gaze. “Come on.” I make my way to the stairs. “I’m starving.”

It’s a white lie, covering up for more blatant, darker lies, but my mom can never know what I’ve done. It’s enough that Leon knows and that it’s the ever-present elephant in the room. Neither of us is brave enough to pull the pin on that hand grenade. If do we, the fragile foundation of our shaky relationship will explode. The truth will boil out like angry red lava, incinerating everything in its path. What’s the point of unleashing all that havoc if I can’t make it right? I can never tell the truth and give Leon the recognition he deserves. I’ll never repay my mom’s sacrifices by signing her death warrant.

“How was your dinner?” my mom asks, skipping past me down the stairs. “Did he take you someplace special?”

“We were too tired to go out.” Another white lie.

She flashes a knowing smile from over her shoulder. “With all the thought he put into the dress and the earrings, I doubt he’ll let the big event go uncelebrated.” She bounces down the hallway to the kitchen. “He’s probably planning something huge for tonight like…” She thinks for a beat, then drags a palm through the air, highlighting an imaginary sign. “Dinner at Oscars. You better wear a pretty dress in case he’s planning on keeping it a surprise.”

“You should’ve been a scriptwriter for Hallmark movies.”

“Mark my words.” My mom wags a finger. “It’ll be the complete deal with candles and roses.”

While I warm up some of the lasagna, my mom offers to make a salad.

“I’m glad to see Leon is a healthy eater,” my mom says after taking salad ingredients from the fridge. “From all the luxury brands he stocks, he’s not stingy either.”

“And I’m glad you’ve made your analysis of him based on his grocery list.”

She goes to the sink, her arms loaded with lettuce, tomatoes, and veggies. “You can guess a person’s character by their spending habits, but you can definitely judge them by the content of their fridge.”

“I’ll remember that,” I say, smiling.

She dumps her loot in the vegetable wash basket. “Have you met his family?”

“Not yet. The wedding happened very quickly.” Wait. Why am I making excuses for him?

“We should all get together, seeing that we didn’t have a wedding lunch.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I clear my throat. “Elliot isn’t Leon’s favorite person at the moment.”

She waves a hand before opening the tap to rinse the tomatoes. “They’ll get over it. You know how boys are. There will be other opportunities for Leon.”

If only it were that simple.

I observe my mom as she prepares the salad. She’s humming softly, interrupting herself ever so often to pepper me with questions. She’s upbeat, a little too much, so when she puts the salad on the table, I say carefully, “You’ll remember about Elliot, won’t you?” I don’t add the rest, the why. I don’t have to. We both know what I’m talking about.

The brightness of her smile doesn’t diminish. Only the slight tensing of her shoulders gives away her stress. “Don’t worry about me. Put your energy into building your new life with your handsome husband.”

If only that were as simple too.