Page 45 of From West, With Regret

“Let’s get one thing straight.” I growl. “If you think for one second I would ever defend Heath for the way he chose to live his life, you’re sorely mistaken. He squandered the life he was given. Not all of us had the luxury of being born into a wealthy, stable home, and Heath did nothing but shit all over you and Richard. He took advantage, manipulated, and used his way to the top. Then he manipulated London into marrying him, using her and controlling her until he got what he wanted out of her. So, no,Mother. I will never take his side over hers. And I sure as fuck am not going to leave her just because it’s what Heath wanted.”

Her entire demeanor shifts the second the last sentence leaves my mouth. It hangs heavily in the air between us. My mother’s eyes soften, and her bottom lip peels away from her top.

“Oh,” she breathes, realization dawning on her. Her shoulders drop, and she blinks her tears away. “Leave her?”

I swallow, snapping my mouth shut. Fuck.

A sickness brews in my stomach. There’s no denying what Ifeel for London, what I’ve always felt. But knowing my mother has a sneaking suspicion of why I’m truly keeping London around doesn’t sit well with me. I still don’t know if she’ll ever discover the truth of what happened at my last foster home.

My mother smirks like she’s a dog with a bone, as if she’s cracked the code to a safe she’s been trying to open her entire life. She’s looking at me as if I’ve betrayed her and her family.

Like I said, I’ve never been a Hall.

Fear of what this means creeps into the back of my mind.

“I see now.” She presses her lips firmly together and nods, picking up her stole. She folds it over her arm and slings her purse over her shoulder. She stands in front of me with a stiff spine and pointed stare. “I fell in love with you when you came to live with us, and I never spent a day regretting my decision. I always felt like you were part of this family. I always felt you belonged with us.” She tips her chin higher, squaring her shoulders. “That is until today.”

The air is punched out of my lungs as she removes the sunglasses perched on top of her perfectly-styled, silver hair, and slips them back onto her face, shielding her eyes from me before spinning on her heel and walking back toward the front door.

My housekeeper holds it open for her, and I watch her turn the corner without a single breath.

I don’t regret what I said about London. I meant it. I won’t leave her for a family I never considered mine.

My only regret in this moment is that I’ve allowed the only mother I’ve ever known to walk out the door thinking I never loved her.

Because it wasn’t only London who was saved the day she was adopted.

I was, too.

THIRTEEN

LONDON

By the time I make it to The Veiled Door, the sun has nearly set. Darkness is about to take over the city, with only the artificial light keeping things bright.

I’m still carrying the dress Julianna gave me when I pull open the door. Alden, West’s driver, is sitting in his usual spot at the end of the bar, sipping his usual seltzer water. He immediately spots me and greets me with a small smile and a nod.

It’s funny how he’s always here, hiding in plain sight. To others, he’s just another customer. I thought he was the first time I stumbled into The Veiled Door.

Tonight, the bar is packed, wall-to-wall. Crowds of people are gathered near the counter, hoping for the chance to catch Lewis’s attention behind the bar. Him and another bartender are working away like a well-oiled machine. They glide back and forth like ducks in water, never missing a step. Lewis moves from one end to the other, reaching for a vodka bottle set on the green-lit shelf on the back wall. Spinning around to face the crowd again, he flings the bottle into the air, making it fly from behind his back and over his shoulder before he looks up and catches it. Tipping it upside down, he pours a steady stream ofthe clear liquid into the metal mixer set on the edge of the counter, not bothering to acknowledge the people who gasp and clap in awe of his incredible talent.

I force my anxiety down and push my way through the crowd to the back of the bar.

“Hello, Miss Walker,” Alden greets, stopping me in my tracks.

I haven’t heard anyone call me by my adoptive name in a long time.

“Alden.” I crack a smile. “I didn’t know you knew my maiden name.”

“Mr. Knight told me.”

Hearing West’s name reignites my anticipation at seeing him. My stomach flutters. I begin looking around, behind Alden and toward the narrow staircase leading to my studio.

“He stepped out back to take a call,” Alden says, pulling my attention away. “He’ll probably be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh. Do you mind telling him I’m upstairs then?”

“Of course.”

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