Page 34 of The Puck Daddy

Right as I’m starting to doze off, my phone starts ringing again. Carefully pulling myself away from my boy, I climb out of bed and answer the phone.

“One second, Mom,” I whisper, quietly clicking the bedroom door closed and making my way to the kitchen.

“Hello?” Mom says on the other end, sounding confused.

“Hey, Mom. Sorry about that. I had to be quiet. I just got out of bed.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I silently smack my face, dragging my hand down.

“Honey, why would you have to be quiet in your own place? It’s almost noon. Why would you still be in be—” she trails off, and I’m pretty sure she’s piecing the puzzle pieces together at a rapid pace.

Then she squeals.

Oh, dear lord. This is not how I wanted to tell her.

“Ah, sweetheart! Please tell me you got back together with Grant.”

I inhale deeply before counting backwards from ten. I need to tell her. If I have any hope of turning my so-called fakerelationship with Adrian into something real, my mother needs to know how I really feel about my ex. She needs to stop meddling. Plus, I want to introduce her to Adrian someday.

“Mom, please stop chatting with Grant,” I say in a serious tone. “He hurt me deeply. Grant left me when I needed him the most. Then he made me feel like everything in our relationship was my fault. It took me a really long time to heal. I really didn’t want to tell you this part because I didn’t want to hurt you, but he replaced me within a week of breaking up. He told me he found someone better and continued to flaunt him in front of me just to be cruel.”

She gasps.

“I don’t love him anymore,” I continue. “I know our families will always be friends, but Grant will no longer be a part of my life.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. A week? You didn’t tell me. Was he—was he cheating on you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.” It’s the first time I ever voiced those thoughts out loud. The fact he had found another Daddy so quickly had me questioning things. But I continued to blame myself. I convinced myself that I was in the wrong and deserved to be hurting.

“That asshole,” Mom hisses.

I bark out a laugh. I don’t remember the last time I heard Mom cuss. Pulling out a few things from the fridge, I place them on thecounter. I want to impress my boy and show him how our lives can be together.

Mom starts to say something else about how horrible Grant is when I interrupt her. “I met someone, Mom. He’s wonderful. A little younger than me, but so sweet,” I admit. “He’s smart, too. I think you’d love him if you gave him a chance.”

I lean against the kitchen counter, smiling.

“You sound happy.” She hums in approval. “And he sounds wonderful. Can I get a photo?”

I chuckle. “You already know what he looks like. His name is Adrian DeLuca.”

She squeals again. Only this time, when her excitement comes through the phone, I feel arms circle me from behind.

Adrian.

I hug him to me, clutching his hands in mine and pulling him in tight, so his front presses solidly against me.

“Morning, sweet boy,” I whisper. “Did I wake you up?”

“Oh, is that him? Tell Adrian I want a photo of the two of you together. Something cute for me to print out and post on my fridge.”

I groan. “Mom, you don’t need a photo. You already know what he looks like. You’ve been to his games.”

Adrian chuckles. “We can take a photo together and send it to her.”

Mom cheers. “Oh! I like him already.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help the warmth filling my chest. This is how it’s supposed to be when I tell my mother about my boyfriend. No hiding or begging her to keep secrets. No guilt or fear. Just happiness… and maybe a little embarrassment, too.

“All right then, Mom. I’m going to get off the phone so we can take this photo for you. Then, I have to get some food into my boy. He’s an athlete and needs the calories.”

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