Page 66 of The Tenth Circle
Not only in nerves, but realization too—both pulling me under fast.
“So…what?” I blink. “You’re in love with this guy or something?”
Pain glazes over Mom’s brown eyes, coating them in tears she’s trying hard to hold back.
Seeing her so troubled forms an ache in my chest—because it’s obvious this is a weight she’s been carrying for a while.
Which can only mean one thing…
“Yes, baby. I am.”
Tears threaten to reach the surface, but I’m a lot better at holding them back.
Archer reads me like a book, placing his hand on my shoulder to squeeze, holding me together before I fall to pieces.
I love my mom so much. We’ve been a team since before I can remember. And now I may have to let her go? Watch her risk being hurt by another man?
With all my might I gather myself, knowing this is just as hard, if not harder, on the mother who knows she’s changing the life we both felt was perfect.
“Okay, so. You fell in love.” I steady the breaths drying my throat. “It happens…it’s not a bad thing.”
“No…it’s not,” she says plainly. “And for what it’s worth I think you’ll really like him.”
“Okay. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I laugh. “I’m gonna need some time to process this.”
A millennia, maybe?
Mom shimmies uncomfortably in her seat again. “Well...” She pauses. “Here’s the thing…”
No more things, Mom. Please. I’m hanging by a damn thread.
Of course I don’t tell her that, because only a selfish dick would deny their mother a chance at happiness.
“What’s the thing?”
Eyes squeezed shut, she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small box and placing it on the table.
My lungs squeeze so tight I actively choke.
“What the fuck is that?!”
She lifts it open, revealing a ginormous solitaire diamond atop a yellow band. I’m blinded by both its shine and floating dots from lack of oxygen.
She’s…no.
It can’t be.
Not this soon.
Not before I even get to know him.
But she is—because Mom slides the ring on her finger, a smile filled to the brim with the truth I’m trying like hell to deny.
“Engaged?” is all I can manage.
“I am, baby.”
Mom reaches for my hand, but I pull it away.
