Page 125 of Damaged Mogul
“The following school year, I was shipped to Switzerland,” she says. “Once I graduated from boarding school, I moved to Paris to attend university. My father has an apartment in Paris, but he bought me another one because God forbid, we’d share a roof. Someone might learn of his dirty little secret and that would be so, so bad. Now, I live in New York, in a house my father bought me on the Upper East Side. He lives on the Upper West Side––the opposite side of Manhattan Island.”
I’m incredulous.
“Fisher Edgington has gone out of his way to pretend I don’t exist,” she says. “He’s done such a smashing job of it, he forgot my twenty-first birthday. He hasn’t been keeping scoreof the milestones in my life—unlike my half-brothers. He’s so obsessed with his sons, he knows how many times a day they burp.” The statement is coated with bitterness.
“How did Fisher meet your mom? They’re from different worlds.”
“A few months after turning eighteen, armed with a high-school degree, Mama moved to Florida with her older sister. They set their sights on Miami. They figured working at a five-star hotel—even if it was as room service staff—was the closest they’d get to living a glamorous life.”
“Your father was a guest at the hotel?”
“Yes. He was in Miami for an extended three-month business trip. He spotted Mom and he had to have her. My mother fell for him, not knowing he was married because he never told her and he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring—there wasn’t even a tan line.”
Asshole cheater.
“It’s only when she got pregnant, and told my father, she found out he was married and had another family in New York. She was devastated. He made promises to help her out financially, but made it clear, they’d never be together. Mama moved back home because Miami was too expensive for a single mom with insignificant job experience. Her sister stayed behind, because she was dating this guy and things were getting serious. Soon after returning to Alabama, Mama got another surprise after her first doctor’s appointment. She was pregnant with twins?—”
“You have a sister or a brother?”
“Ihad.”
Past tense.“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember my sister. She died when we were five months old. She suffered from a birth defect.Identical twins get hit with the same health issues since we share the same DNA, but in this case, I was spared.”
Jesus.“Where was your father in all of this?”
“He was in the picture until Mama announced she was carrying twins. It became a little too real and a little too overwhelming—he stopped coming down to visit her in Alabama.”
“Your father never sent money?”
“He did for a while, but that dried up at some point.”
“Was he aware of your mom’s dire situation? After all, he knew she was a young single mom.”
“He didn’t care if I went to school on an empty stomach most days, or if Mom had bought my clothes from thrift stores because Walmart was too expensive, or if the landlord would look at me like I was a slice of chocolate cake when he’d come knock on our door, demanding the rent money that was always late. Nope. Those were none of my father’s concerns.”
Although not a billionaire, Fisher is extremely rich. He wouldn’t have struggled financially. Why not step up to the plate?
Fucking deadbeat dad.
“At least your father manned up after your mother passed away.”
She sneers. “Mama didn’t leave him a choice.”
“How come?”
“Mama didn’t date for most of my life. Around the time I was about to turn twelve, she met this guy. He was good to her and to me. I was excited at the prospect of having a father figure. He wanted to rewrite Mama’s story. On their one-year anniversary of dating, he planned a trip to Miami. I stayed behind with Mama’s best friend and her kids. I remember waving them off before they hit the road. Then, a few days later, Mama’s best friend is telling me Mama would never comeback… because she was in Heaven.” Her voice breaks. “Mom and her boyfriend died in an accident on their way back home.”
I place a hand over hers. “If it hurts too much, you don’t have to continue.”
She offers a sad smile. “That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s only a wave of melancholy. It happens when I recount my story.”
Been there. Done that.
I tuck a strand of long hair behind her ear. “Only if you’re sure.”
She nods.
