Page 70 of The Roommate Problem
“Because I asked her not to say anything,” his grandmother countered. “And in case you didn’t see it, she co-signed for the loan with me. She’s risking just as much as I am.”
He sighed. “I know, because you asked her to.” And Mo was the kind of person who would always help a friend. Even if that meant keeping something from another.
“No. I didn’t ask. She offered—insisted, even.”
“What?”
“When the bank said I needed a co-signer for the loan, Mo offered right away. I told her she didn’t need to. I could ask someone else, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She said she wanted to help. She believed in my idea of attaching a small flower-growing farm to the business.”
He shook his head. “But she’s just doing this so you don’t have to sell. She’s trying to keep you here. Keep me here.”
“Of course she is. The girl loves you.”
He sat back in shock at his grandmother’s words, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. “What did you say?”
“Oh, please, August,” she scoffed. “I may be old, but my vision isn’t gone yet. I can see the way that woman looks at you. Like you’re the sunniest day of summer. Which is ironic, considering how much you frown.”
His brow furrowed, but she was right. In fact, he was frowning right now. But only because he couldn’t believe what his grandmother was saying.
“She doesn’t love me. She used me, cut me out.” That wasn’t love.
“Oh, my sweet boy.” She beckoned him closer. “Come here.”
He scooted closer on the bed, slipping both his hands into his grandmother’s.
“Sometimes the people who love us most hurt us the most, and not always intentionally. I know after the divorce, your parents each got wrapped up in their own lives, and it made you feel left out.”
Left out, unwanted, whatever. He had his own life now. One he liked. Or had until a certain five-foot-nothing woman with wild-colored hair and a penchant for looking on the bright side turned it completely upside down.
“They did you a disservice, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love you.”
He knew that. He never doubted they loved him, but knowing it and feeling it were two different things.
“She lied to me, Gran.”
With sad, loving eyes, his grandmother nodded. “Yes, but she did it because I made her promise. She was helping me, because she loves me, too. It wasn’t malicious, Auggie.”
Now that he knew. It was obvious how much Mo loved his grandmother. She was always trying to help, even with all this loan nonsense. Didn’t make the sting of betrayal any easier to soothe.
“And since I know she would withhold things from you because I asked her to, might I also hazard a guess that she’s been keeping something from me, too? Something you asked her not to mention? Something about the two of you?”
Crap.
“How did you…”
“Oh, please, August. Don’t think you can fool your own grandmother. I know the signs of, what do you kids call it today? Hooking up?”
He recoiled. “Please never say that phrase again.”
She laughed softly. “All right, but it’s true, isn’t it? You asked Mo to keep something from me, too.”
He supposed she did have a bit of a point with that. But hiding a relationship and hiding a loan and surgery were two very different things.
“It’s not the same, Gran.”
“I know, dear.” She patted his hand. “But just remember: Mo wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was trying to help me. I know that girl. It must have killed her to keep such important things from you. I suppose it wasn’t very fair of me to ask her to do that, and for that, I am sorry.”
Thinking back, he did remember at times glancing a bit of turmoil on Mo’s face and finding it odd. Still didn’t erase what she’d done. What she’d kept from him. How was he supposed to just let that go? Just because someone’s intentions were good didn’t make their actions right.
