Page 101 of A Sinful Gravity

I inhaled softly and walked over, stopping in front of her. Two steps between us.

"Mother."

Her gaze swept over me, top to bottom, like she was inspecting a defective product. I knew that look too well. Always searching for flaws.

"You've gotten bold." Her voice was ice. "Six years. Not a single call."

I said nothing.

In those six years, every night I could barely hold on, I'd picked up the phone countless times. And put it down again.

And now here she was. Her first words still a rebuke. Not a greeting.

"Do you have any idea how hard I looked for you?" She stepped closer, crowding me. "Cassian came to me. I knew nothing. How was I supposed to explain that to him?"

Explain.

The word stuck like a barb.

"Do you know how humiliating that was for me?" Katherine didn't give me a chance to speak. Her voice rose. "And you? Living it up somewhere. Not giving a damn that you're Mrs. King."

I looked at her. My throat felt blocked.

Living it up. That's what she called it.

She had no idea what I'd survived alone in London. No idea what it was like holding Laila by myself, dancing until my feet bled, feeling that kind of desperation.

She knew nothing. She didn't want to know.

Nausea rolled through me. Dizziness followed.

Her eyes were full of disgust. "Running away from home? Thank God Cassian kept the news of your disappearance quiet. Can you imagine if the media or other companies found out? Where would that leave me?"

Face. Always about face.

I stood there. My hands started shaking. Not from cold. From that old familiar fear crawling back.

I pressed my left hand over my right. Took a breath.

"Mom." My voice came out. "Six years. This is what you want to say when you see me?"

She hesitated, like she hadn't expected me to say that.

"Don't you want to know how I've been?" I asked. "If I got hurt? If things were hard?"

"Hard?" Her expression flickered, then snapped back to that critical mask. "Your biggest problem is your failed marriage!"

She clicked forward in her heels. Each step hammered my nerves as her accusations crashed over me.

"I heard you joined some little Royal Ballet?"

"Not some little Royal Ballet." I made my voice steady. "Principal dancer with the Royal Ballet in London."

She frowned. "So what? Prancing around onstage like a circus act? That's what you think matters? Luna, ballet was supposed to be your ticket into high society, not some embarrassing career!"

The words hit like a blow. My vision blurred.

I should've known. I was never her daughter. I was the tool for her dreams.