Page 37 of Making Their Vows
"We go way back," she tells me, offering me her hand. I take it.
"It's nice to meet you too," I tell her. I'm not sure if I mean it. I can't stop the jealousy I'm feeling. It's not only that she's beautiful and that they'd hung out in a hotel bar but also that she said they go way back. She knows Blake in ways that I don’t.
He and I go way back too, or we did. There is so much I don't know. "Here, take my chair," I tell Lauren. "I'm going to run to the bathroom really quick."
"I was going to walk you." Blake rushes to stop this from happening.
"He's obsessed with me. I can't even go to the bathroom now," I joke, but I know I said it partly out of jealousy, which Lauren shouldn't be getting from me.
She laughs. "Let the girl use the bathroom. I actually wanted to talk to you about that email you sent me," Lauren says, making Blake's expression grow serious.
"Fine." Blake presses a kiss to my lips before finally releasing his hold on me.
It's then, as I walk away from the table, that I see how many people are watching us but trying to pretend not to. I see a few people whispering together, not great at hiding that they are gossiping, and maybe they aren't trying to hide it.
When I make it to the bathroom, I let out a small breath of relief. I should be used to these kinds of events, but it's been a long time. I don't miss them; in fact, it's a reminder of how much I don't care for them.
How was I planning on this being my life? That I'd have a workaholic husband that I love, but I would fill my days with charities with the same kind of women my mother favors. I'll never be sure if a person is friends with me because they want to be or they're using me because of who my husband is.
I would be doing that and tending to our children. I'm not opposed to the whole nanny thing. However, I'd want a nanny for date night or extra hands at times. I want a present father.
"Breathe," I tell myself. I'm letting my thoughts get the best of me. I could be having them all for nothing, and all of this is a con on me. I tell myself to talk to him, but if it is a ruse, all he'd do is lie to me.
My hand goes to my stomach once again. If I'm pregnant, I'll be stuck. Then what? The bathroom stall suddenly feels too small, and I need air. I push open the door and freeze when I see my mother standing there.
"What are you wearing?" she asks before I can fully process her being here.
"Mother." I force a smile.
"You don't answer my questions now?" Her chin rises. She's got a very icy demeanor. My mother can be hit or miss. There were rare glimpses when she actually showed she could be a mom. Although those grew less and less as I got older. I adjusted and learned not to expect that from her.
"I'm an adult. I can wear what I like."
"I mean, you can." Her eyes flick up and down me in the same judging way they always have. "But I wouldn't suggest it."
"What do you want?" Now it's me that turns on an icy demeanor, or I try. Mother rolls her eyes at me.
"I'm here for you. Doing what no one ever did for me." It has to be something that can't be paid for.
"And what's that?" I bite out when she doesn't keep going.
"I wish I'd been saved from your father." Now, that is nowhere close to what I thought she might say.
“So you’re here to save me from Blake, is what you're saying?”
She must hear the sarcasm in my tone because I catch the fleeting look of anger on her face. She tries to hide it, and the Botox helps, but I still catch it.
“I’m your mother. Of course I want to save you.” She tries her best to sound sincere, but I know she might have an ulterior motive.
“Why is it you think I need to be saved?” She glances down and then away. For a second, I swear guilt shows.
“I was okay with all of this initially when you were away, but now you’re back in the city and withhim.” I hate the disdain she has when speaking of Blake. I have never seen or heard it before. Last I recall is her gushing over him, but if my mother is great at anything, it's a performance. Was she performing then, or is she now?
"And why do we suddenly hate Blake?"
"It's not only Blake," she sneers. "It's all of them, honestly." Mother waves her hand toward the door. “They use us.”
"Mom," I sigh.
