Page 83 of Dash

No matter the outcome.

I’ll survive whatever happens. I’ve survived worse.

Or so I think, until I step out of the stairwell and see my mother standing outside my flat. She looks out of place, as she always does. She’s dressed like she’s going to war in designer clothes and pearls.

My stomach sinks. I do not have the strength to battle Evelyn tonight. I’m already exhausted and the information the doctor gave me this morning is burning a hole in my bag.

But my mother has some kind of radar when it comes to me, so the moment the door moves her head snaps up. Her smile is wide, like the kind a wolf gives you before it eats you.

“Darling, thought you were never going to appear.” Her gaze scans my face as I approach. “You look ghastly. Are you taking those supplements I told you about?”

Those supplements cost more than I pay for food every week. I slide my key into the lock, opening the door and stepping inside.

Dash is due soon, and my stomach is in knots. I’m going to tell him tonight, even though all I want to do is sleep.

If I survive Evelyn.

She follows me inside, not waiting to be invited. She never does. This is Evelyn Harrington’s world and we’re all just living in it.

I shrug my bag off, letting it fall to the carpet near the door. My shoes follow a second later, then I head to the kitchen.

My mother is talking behind me, but I’m not listening. I’m running through what I’m going to say to Dash.

I grip the edge of the kitchen counter, not sure if the dizziness that comes over me is crushing panic or pregnancy related.

“Sweetheart, you really do look pale. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Her hand on my arm almost feels like concern, but I don’t trust it. I don’t trust her. Which really sucks, because right now I could use my mother.

“I’m just tired.” I square my shoulders, blinking my vision clear. I probably need to eat. I barely grabbed anything today between appointments and shift changes and both my bosses breathing down my neck.

“You should sleep more. You’ll end up with lines. They don’t go away, you know. Anyway, darling, there was a reason for this visit.”

Of course there was. There always is.

“I’m very distressed by your choice ofpartner.” She says that last word like it tastes dirty on her tongue. “I understand youwanting to try something different, but don’t ruin your future with someone like that.”

I blow out a breath, as if it can release the valve inside me before the tension destroys me. “Or how about we just don’t judge people by how they look? Dash is a good man.”

He is. Deep down I know that.

She scoffs. “I highly doubt it. I pulled some strings, and I managed to get you an hour with James. He’ll take care of you in the way you’re meant to be taken care of.” Her eyes roll around my kitchen, judging every little corner of it.

I bristle. “I don’t need a man’s name on a mortgage to validate my life.”

“You’re young, Dayna. Idealistic. You don’t know what it is to struggle, to feel the panic of responsibility breathing down your neck.” She clutches her throat as if she can feel invisible hands around it. “All I want is for your life to be easier than mine was.”

Before she can dive into a rant about my father, I interrupt. “I’m not meeting James, who, by the way, sounds like a dick. He gave me a time slot to decide whether he wants to fucking marry me? What a champ.” I slam the mug on to the counter harder than I intend, frustration and tiredness making my movements sloppy. “And I sure as hell don’t need you to play matchmaker for me. I’m more than capable of finding my own boyfriend.”

“I would believe that, darling, except you have terrible choice in partners.”

“Well at least none of mine have gone to fucking jail .” It’s a low blow to use my father to hurt her, even if it’s true.

She doesn’t hesitate. She cracks her palm off my face hard enough to rattle my teeth. My head snaps to the side so violently, my neck pops.

Fuck my life.

My face burns, the skin tight over the bone.

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