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“You said you want to talk? I’m pretty sure it’s not about Dylan and Kaylee’s love lives.”
The smile on her face falters. She sighs and walks to the couch, sitting on the edge. I take my seat on the couch adjacent to hers.
“First of all.” She clears her throat. “I have to apologize to you. I kept a huge secret from you for so long. You deserved to know the truth, but telling you–” She stops, sniffling. “Telling you will make it real. I didn’t want to do that to you—”
“You didn’t want to do that to me?” I scoff. “That’s rich.”
Her gaze drops to her perfectly manicured fingers on her purse. “You’re right.” She sniffles again. “It wasn’t about you. I didn’t tell you because I was scared that you’d blame me and I’d lose you.”
I open my mouth to speak but close it again. I can’t say she’s wrong. When I was younger, I was bad at taking responsibility. If she had told me then, I’d probably have blamed her for everything that went wrong in my life. I nod, inching loser to the edge of the couch.
“Yeah…maybe you’re right. I might have done that then. But I’m not a kid anymore, and all I want is to know who my dad is.”
I reach out to take her hand in mine, squeezing gently. “Just tell me.”
She stares at my hand for a minute before blinking off the tears brimming in her eyelids.
“I’m sorry, Ian, but I think it’s best for everyone involved that you don’t know who he is.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to know who he is. You shouldn’t.”
I rise sharply from the couch, raking my fingers through my hair. My jaw clenches intermittently as I stare at the wall. For one second there, I thought she was going to tell me who my dad is. I’ll finally know, but no. This is just one of her games.
“I need you to leave, Mom.”
“Ian, no. we have to—”
“Talk?” I spit. “About what exactly? Enlighten me,” I sigh. “Here I was, thinking that finally, I’m going to get the truth from you. But no, it’s not in your nature to be unselfish.”
“Now that is not fair, Ian. You know I’m just trying to protect you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve told you. I don’t need your protection. We both know it’s yourself you’re trying to protect.”
“Ian—”
“Leave, Mom.”
“No.”
I turn around, facing her squarely. “What?”
“I’m not leaving till you hear what I have to say.”
My brow creases as I stare at her intently. Melissa never gets this assertive. Not ever. That means she has something important to say.
“Alright then.” I fold my arms. “What do you want to talk about?”
She rises from the couch, fiddling with her fingers. “I hear that you’re pursuing a case against Andrews & Sons.
“Yeah it’s—” I stop, turning back to stare at her through narrowed eyes. “How did you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She waves me off.
“No, Mom. You need to tell me—”
“I just said it doesn’t matter, Ian,” she snaps. “You need to stop.”
