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“Yes.” I stir my coffee. “But no one calls me Leigh.”
“But…” She waves off the topic. “Okay, whatever, so you’re Leigh to him. You had fun though?”
“Of course.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
I sip my coffee and stare at her over the rim of my mug, swallowing the hot liquid. “Listen, just because you’re happy with Justin doesn’t mean it’s for everyone.”
She leans back in the booth, her eyes never leaving mine. Alara is in school to be a psychologist, and I hate when she uses the shit she’s learning in school on me. “I’m sorry, when did you become so anti-relationship?”
I haven’t told Alara about what happened with my mom.
I haven’t told anyone.
I was going to call Conor today, but why should I blow up his entire belief in a happily ever after, even though the man is still enjoying his bachelor ways?
“You’re hiding something,” she says.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“Actually, I’m your best friend. The one you’re supposed to share everything with.”
“You said you didn’t want to know his dick size,” I say, trying to use humor to deflect.
“Stop being cheeky. Now tell me.”
The waitress comes over and takes our orders, but it doesn’t distract Alara from her mission. Once the waitress walks away, she’s leaning back in the booth, waiting for me to start talking.
“Last night before the wedding, I saw my mom with another man.”
There. It’s out in the universe. It’s no longer my secret, and I can no longer convince myself that I was seeing things. That it wasn’t real.
“What?” Her mouth drops open, and her eyes widen in disbelief.
Her parents are divorced, and it was nasty before she turned eighteen. The reason she wanted to become a therapist was to help kids through divorce because of the tug-of-war she felt as a kid.
Tears prick my eyes as I tell her what I saw. “On my way to the wedding, I stopped at the boutique and had to go upstairs because I forgot the card my mom had given me for Mila and Jack. As soon as I walked in, I saw my mom’s office light on, so I thought I’d joke with her about why I was attending in her place because she said she was busy and how she needed to start declining the invitations. But…”
Alara takes my hand, and I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“She was sitting on her desk, and there was a man standing between her legs, kissing her. He was pulling her blouse out of her skirt.”
“And it wasn’t your dad? You’re sure?”
I shake my head.
She squeezes my hand. “That sucks so bad, Ky. I say we confront her.”
I laugh, but it’s weak at best. “Alara.”
“I’m serious. If my childhood taught me anything, it’s that you need to go to your mom and tell her what you saw. I’m assuming you grabbed the envelope from your office and snuck out the back?”
I nod.
“I would’ve run in there and tore the bastard off my mom.”
I shake my head, but I can’t help but laugh at the image she’s putting in my head.
