Page 168 of Love Unspoken

There was a pause. "Just like that?"

"Sure. Look, now that I've spent time with Kath without lust and youth blurring my eyesight, I feel like I owe you Cubanos, and thanks." I stood up and walked to the windows as I spoke into my earpiece. "It was a shitty thing to do, Mercer. But I'm past it."

"You think we could be friends again? I'd love to introduce you to my⁠—"

"Nah, man. Not going to happen," I told him honestly. "I may be over what you did, but the truth is I'm also over you and Kath."

I could hear him breathe deeply, and I listened to a woman in the background.

"By the way, congratulations. I hear you're going to be a father."

"Yeah. It's awesome," he said softly.

"Good for you. Look, Mercer, I've got to go, okay?"

"Thanks for talking to me."

"Take care of yourself."

After the call ended, I wondered why I had held a grudge for so many years. It wasn't worth it. Or maybe because I was so fucking happy that Amara was giving me a chance, and I was, as she said, getting cocky about my chances of winning her over that I couldn't give two fucks about Mercer, Kath, and that drama.

Since my day was not sufficiently fucked up, my mother decided to show up to work.

"We need to talk about the holidays."

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and exhaled slowly, hoping to tamp down my temper.

"Mama, I'm not in the mood to discuss the holidays with you."

She gave me a hurt look. Patsy Covington had made an art out of emotional blackmail. I'd spend my entire life trying to give her what she wanted to keep the peace. But I was outta fucks!

"Thanksgiving is in just a few days."

"And you've invited the Bellamys," I pointed out, "I'm not interested in seeing either Hugh or Kath socially."

She gasped. "They're your sister's family, Lucas; you can't avoid them."

"Watch me." I sighed. "Mama, this is my place of work, and I'm busy."

"Am I losing you, Lucas?" There was a wealth of disappointment in her eyes. If there had been genuine hurt and not just outrage, maybe I'd have felt some guilt—but I knew Mama and knew that after a lifetime spent manipulating everything and everyone around her, I didn't think she knew what an honest emotion looked like.

"Did you ever have me?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mama, you had a version of me, the one you wanted to see—and the one I thought I could be for the world. That version is more Covington than Lucas."

She looked at me, puzzled. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You're not making any sense."

I sighed. "Mama, I'm more than a Covington."

She laughed uncomfortably. "Well, yes."

"The man I am now and the one I want to continue to be will not be spending my holidays with you if you choose to spend them with Hugh and Kath. How about that? Is that simple enough to understand?" I stood up, tired of this nonstop nagging. No wonder my father drank like a fish—right now, I was tempted to head straight to the nearest bar.

"That just won't do," Mama said primly.

"Okay," I shrugged. "I'm still not going to be at your dinner table on Thanksgiving or Christmas."