Page 57 of Furious
Mom nods. “Exactly. John is like the sun. When you have his attention, you feel like you’re on top of the world. But his attention is fickle. It’s either so intense that you burn yourself, or so absent that you’re left in the coldest darkness, wondering what you did wrong.”
I can relate to that. Every time Dad canceled plans to spend time together, I blamed myself. If I had gotten better grades, or a faster lap the last time we rode together, he would have made time for me. The truth is that it didn’t matter what I did. Ifsomething more interesting came along, Dad would drop me like a hot potato.
“I’m glad Scott puts you first, Mom.” I mean it.
She smiles. “Yes. And by the looks of it, Lev does the same with you. He could have dropped you off this morning and made himself scarce. But he came in to talk to me and to take responsibility for his part in the whole misunderstanding.”
Mom is right. Lev wants me to be happy. To the point that he won’t force me to choose. He would rather share me with Chance and Ares than hurt me by demanding that I let them go.
I love him.
The realization isn’t shocking. I knew I was falling for him, but I think I’m a goner. It might be too soon to tell him, though. I need to wait for the right time. I’ve never said I love you to a man who isn’t my dad. When I do it, I want it to be special.
Mom, however, doesn’t need to hear me say it. She sees it in my eyes. “You’re in love with him.” It isn’t a question.
“I am.”
She pulls me into an excited hug. “Well, I approve. Just make sure you two are being safe. You both have school to think about. And I’m too young to become a grandmother.”
“Mom!” I yelp.
Another one of those carefree giggles I really like on her. “You’re still on the pill, right? And make sure he commits to being exclusive if you decide to ditch the condoms.”
“Oh my God, stop.” I groan. “Is this turning into a conversation about the birds and the bees?”
“Ha, no.” She teases me. “I’ve done my part when you were younger. I just want to make sure that when you have a baby, it’s a conscious choice, not an accident.”
The words tumble out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “Was I an accident?”
Her hands fly to her chest. “God, no. John and I were young, but we wanted you. The second we got married, we wanted a gaggle of little ones running around the house. And had it been up to him, we would have had more children. I was the one who didn’t want anymore.”
Guilt twists my insides. “Was I too much of a terror?”
Mom shakes her head. She smiles, but her eyes are sad. “No, it isn’t that. You were a lively little girl, but you were adorable. The reason why I didn’t want any more kids is that your father couldn’t be faithful. Why bring more children into our wreck of a family? John started cheating on me while I was pregnant with you. Or at least, that’s when I found out. As far as I know, maybe it wasn’t even the first time. I kicked him out of the house a month before you were born. He promised he would never do it again if I took him back and I believed him. It happened again and again. So many times that I even stopped asking him where he had been. Even though I did everything I could to save our marriage, I realized I had two choices. Accept that your father would never be faithful to me, or leave him. In my heart, I knew we wouldn’t be together forever because bad boys rarely change. It was an impossible choice between staying with the man I loved but losing respect for myself little by little every day, or breaking my heart and yours by leaving.”
I had never known all this. Mom had told me Dad cheated, but it’s the first time I consider how heartbreaking it must have been for Mom.
My throat feels tight. I’m fighting the tears that keep welling in my eyes. “Did you stay because of me?” I whisper.
She sighs. “Yes and no, sweetie. I saw how much you adored your dad and not taking you away from him was definitely a factor in my decision. But it would be unfair to say it was the only reason. It was complicated. All I really wanted was for him to change, for me to be enough. I’m not proud of the person Ihad become. I snooped into his things, his phone, his laptop. I turned up at the racetrack for surprise visits. I was obsessed. I knew I couldn’t keep living that way.”
That isn’t hard to understand. If one of my guys was interested in someone else, it would break my heart, but I would have to let them go. I know it might sound hypocritical because I can’t choose between them, but they all know I’m seeing each of them. I would never lie about my feelings. “It must have been hard.” I say. “He was treating you so badly, and you had to watch me put him on a pedestal every day. You had to listen to me say how I wanted to be, just like Dad.”
Her reaction surprises me. “That wasn’t why I finally left. You’ve always been a very well-rounded person, sweetheart. You would hang out with your dad at the racetrack all day, but when you came home, you’d rush to my room, and you’d drape yourself in my clothes. You’d put on my lipstick and my shoes.”
I smile. “Playing in your closet was as fun as riding on the back of Dad’s bikes.”
Mom nods. “Yeah. And one night, when your dad blew off the dinner I had spent hours to prepare to go to a party chasing a potential new sponsor—and all the top models and starlets who were always at those parties—you showed up at the dinner table all dressed up. You said that if Daddy was busy, you’d be my dinner date. You had on one of my dresses. It was huge on you but it was your favorite, and you kept trying it on to see if you’d grown enough to fit in it. So we were having dinner together, and I was only half paying attention to you and the food. I kept obsessing about what he was doing. When it was time to clean up, you wanted to help, but I needed to be alone. So I asked you if you had any homework. You were in third grade then and that week you had to write an essay about the most inspirational person in your life.”
Fuck. “Oh Mom, I’m so sorry. Did I write that essay about Dad?”
Her voice cracks and she dabs at the corner of her eyes with her fingertips, struggling not to cry. “No. You wrote that essay about me. You wrote that I was your inspiration. You wanted to be like me when you grew up, Zara. I had always seen all the things you had in common with your father, but I missed the obvious. You loved him just as much as I did. You chased after him and vied for his attention, just like I did. I had been struggling, losing my self-esteem and letting your father get away with the way he was treating me. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but we were a family. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t just staying for myself, I was staying for you, too. But then it hit me. It wasn’t just my self-respect that was at stake. I was teaching you that it was ok to be someone’s doormat. That as long as a man was attractive enough, it was ok to chase after him, hoping to change him. If my life was a mess, I had myself to blame and I could live with that. But what kind of mother doesn’t want happiness for her daughter? I filed for divorce the day after. For myself and for you.”
Holy shit. “Mom.” It’s the only thing I can say.
She pats the back of my hand. “Do you get it now why I freaked out when you lied to me about having a sleepover with your friend to go to Bridgeport with that guy? He was just like your dad. I had fucking failed you, Zara. I had to do something to stop you from repeating my same mistakes.”
I lower my gaze. “Did you know that I met Chance, Lev, and Ares that weekend?”
