Page 55 of Dominate
“I see,” I reply, my mind putting together the fact that Callum and Callie were likely not with Sophia and Margaret this weekend.
I look over to gauge Margaret’s reaction and find her staring off into the distance. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, appearing completely disinterested in the conversation.
I clear my throat to drop my little news on them which is certainly much less exciting. Maybe this engagement of Callum’s will work out in my favour. “I wanted to let you all know that I’ve started seeing someone.”
Callum’s eyes narrow and I look away from him to Margaret. “It’s not an engagement or anything, but we’re serious. I felt like you guys needed to know because he’s a soccer player for Manchester United and a bit of a high profile one at that.”
Margaret’s eyes snap to mine, her brows puzzled in amazement. “What is his name?”
I sniff once and force myself to maintain eye contact when I reply, “Gareth Harris.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Callum jeers, his voice taking on a smug tone. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to start screwing one of your clients.”
“Callum!” Margaret retorts, her tone scathing, eyes sharp.
“Mother, this is completely improper,” Callum argues, smoothing his hair back like the arrogant asshole that he is. “What kind of example will it be for Sophia to see her mum wrapped up around one of those barbarians?”
“Gareth is not a barbarian,” I reply through clenched teeth.
“He’s a Harris Brother!” Callum retorts. “Couldn’t even manage to shag a player from a proper family at the very least? That Harris family is as common as they get.”
I inhale and exhale slowly through my nose, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “His family are good people, Callum, and Gareth is quite possibly the best of them. He just received an award for that youth enrichment program he runs. He hasn’t met Sophia yet, aside from at that camp you enrolled her in without my knowledge, but he’d be a great example for her.”
Margaret’s eyes swerve to Callum. “You didn’t tell her about the camp?”
Callum baulks half-heartedly. “She would have said no. Sloan is always going on and on about Sophia’s health.”
“Callum Coleridge,” Margaret seethes. “She is her mother and the one who was by her bedside when Sophia was ill. She is the one most knowledgeable about her health. What you have done is unconscionable.”
“But, Mother,” Callum whines.
Margaret rolls her eyes, her gaze looking off into the distance again. “Callum, leave us.”
“Leave you?” Callum argues, his head darting back and forth between me and his mother.
Margaret cuts him a hard glower. “Go check on your daughter.”
Callum’s jaw moves up and down as he attempts to speak but can’t figure out what to say. In a huff, he storms off to the stables, leaving a dazed Callie behind.
Callie stares at Margaret. “What should I do?”
Margaret’s eyes fly wide. “Go with him!” She flicks her wrist at Callie, who quickly scampers off, nearly tripping as her heels get stuck in some gravel.
Turning back to me, Margaret eyes me for a moment, then states crisply, “Walk with me, Sloan.”
She tosses the tail of her cloak up tightly around her neck, her lips puckering as she braces against the cool breeze. I follow her around the side of the house to a Victorian wall garden area that’s full of neatly trimmed shrubs that are brown from the cold winter. She stops to pick up a dead branch and drops it into a rubbish pile alongside the house.
“The grounds crew was supposed to pick up this pile weeks ago,” she tuts, shaking her head in disappointment. She resumes her walk with me keeping pace with her and finally looks over at me and states, “My cancer has spread, Sloan.”
I nearly trip over myself from her drastic change of topic and have to compose myself to reply, “I’m sorry to hear that, Margaret.”
She looks forward, her pointy chin jutted out with determination. “The doctor says I have weeks, maybe less.”
My breath exhales from my body. As many times as I’ve wished death on this woman, it somehow doesn’t seem nearly as appealing as it once did. “Sophia will be crushed.”
“You won’t,” she muses, sliding her eyes to me.
“Margaret—” I begin to argue but she cuts me off.
