The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4 (Cursed #3-4) - Rebecca Donovan Page 0,53
acknowledge me? And then go after the guy I love like it’s so easy for you.” She practically spits the words at me while shredding the tissue in her hands. “I made it my mission to make you feel like you belonged while reminding you that you didn’t. That you were a trashy whore just like your mother.”
I raise my brows at the vehemence laced in her tone. She’s definitely not over being angry.
“I’m sorry.” Lily takes a breath to collect herself. “I’m really sorry. I got it wrong. I got you wrong. And I should’ve come to you instead of leaving the messages and destroying your room. But according to my mother, I was supposed to be above that. That to acknowledge you had a side in this would be like giving you power. And I believed her. But what I did … was beneath me.”
Lily wipes at the tears that have begun to flow again with a fresh tissue, setting the mangled one on the table. “It’s been so hard watching her self-destruct. I thought that if I could be on her side, support her, she’d get better. But it’s only made her bitterness worse. She and I used to be so close. I don’t know what to do.” Her chin trembles as she bows her head in attempt to conceal her shame. “I miss my dad.”
“You can talk to me. I mean, not about your dad. But I get it. I have an emotionally unstable mother too. Oh, and talking about Grant will never happen. But maybe I can introduce you to a punching bag instead of you taking your anger out on defenseless stuffed zebras.”
Lily releases a broken laugh. “I know; it’s weird, being in love with the same guy. But maybe … we can try this again. Being friends?”
“Maybe,” I answer reluctantly, not sure I can be friends with her now that I know she hopes she and Grant will get back together.
There’s a reason I have my rule about not touching guys my friends have been with. People do the craziest things in the misuse of love.
A knock draws our attention, and Grant pokes his head in. “Oh, good. No one’s bleeding.”
I roll my eyes. “We can be civilized, if we want to be.”
Lily releases a broken laugh.
“Can I talk to you?” Grant asks Lily gently, stepping into the room.
Lily blots her face and nods.
“I’ll, um … be far away from everyone whenever you’re done.”
When I come downstairs, I find my mother seated on the couch. She looks up when she hears me. I smile softly.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier,” I say, sitting beside her. “I know you didn’t realize Nick was married. I shouldn’t have accused you like that.”
“You also didn’t know this was his house—well, not technically. But I didn’t warn you, and I should have when I found out. I’m sorry.” She looks down at her hands and then back to me. “We’ve never been good with letting each other in, have we? It’s like we’ve lived such different lives. I barely know you anymore. It’s my fault … letting your grandmother raise you. But she was so much stronger than I ever was, I thought … anyway, I never felt like you needed me. And now … all you do is try to take care of me. Protect me. While that’s what I should be doing for you. You’ve grown up so fast, Lana. I don’t want you to stop needing me.”
I peer out the glass door that leads to the deck and watch as dinner is served. It looks like some sort of steak dish. The guys are at the far end, talking and laughing like the storm has passed. While the adults are still under its cloud with Niall, Olivia and Isaac holding a serious conversation. And Cassandra continues to get wasted with another martini.
Maybe my mother’s right. That I’ve spent so much time taking care of her that I’ve outgrown the need for her mothering. And it’s not like she ever asked me to defend and protect her from the world. But it’s what was needed. She seemed too delicate to be exposed to the harsh elements of reality once out from under my grandmother’s formidable shadow. She wasn’t bold or assertive enough to fill my grandmother’s shoes. So I did.
But this isn’t the time to discuss the dynamics of our reversed relationship. And it certainly doesn’t explain why we’re here.