Page 140 of Threaded Lies

I stare at her with tears in my eyes. Yep, my heart is broken all right, but nothing else she says is true.

At least on my end of it.

“So I’m going to start. I’m going to show you how to find the way back. I’m not mad at you, Rowan. We all make mistakes. The mistakes only serve to show us the light and what path we should take instead. No one is mad at you. We all just want the best for you. We all love you and we all just want you to make this right.”

I hiccup over the sob that happens. I hate that it does, but it does, and she’s at my side in a second. She sits on her knees before me, looking up at me with my hands in hers.

“I didn’t cancel anything yet. I mean, I was going to. The deposits were already lost so there was no rush, but I had planned on it, and then Dad got hurt and I simply—maybe conveniently forgot to.” She squeezes my hands. “You can still do this, Rowan. You sowed your oats, now let Chad mend your broken heart. He’s a good man. He’s an even better friend. No one will think twice over you wanting this.”

The woman is actually crazy. I cheat on my fiancé, things are called off, and she forgets to cancel the wedding? Like … oh my god.

“Mom. I don’t want this.”

“Yes. You do. You want this and it’s just fear pushing you to act out. A lifetime commitment is a scary thing but in time you’ll see what we’ve always known, that Chad is the best person suited for you.”

“Mom,” I say sternly.

“The guests will come at a moment’s notice,” she says right over me. “They love our two families so much and can’t wait to help celebrate with us. For you.”

I close my eyes and wish her away.

Unfortunately, when I open them, she’s still there.

It didn’t work.

“Call Chad. Talk to him. Reconcile with him. It’s really for the best.”

I know there is nothing I can say right now that will make her stop. Nothing. So I say the only thing I know that will get her to leave.

“I’ll consider it. But I need time. Space. Quiet.”

There’s nothing I gain by marrying him. Not anymore. Not for two years at least.

But she doesn’t know that, and the way her face lights up when I say I’ll consider it means her work is done and she’ll leave me be so I can chart my own course.

She reins her hope back in. “Yes. Sure. Of course.”

And as I watch her pull out of the driveway with hope plastered on her face, all I feel is despair.

FIFTY-NINE

Rowan

Music is blaring.

The wine has been flowing.

And I’m letting loose because if I don’t then I’m going to snap.

Penelope Piccadilly. The name is like an alliteration in my head I can’t stop saying and wish I’d never heard before.

Why did you lie to me, Holden?

Why are you hiding who you are?

Why do I even want to know?

Because online, it looks like your life only existed from your twenties on. Everything mentioning your childhood is generic without specifics.