Her face falls, and for a minute, my heart breaks. What am I doing? She’s my mother, my own flesh and blood.
You’re doing this for yourself. You deserve this. I remind myself.
“Hanna,” she gasps. The worst part is she never saw this coming, and not because it’s a complete shock but because she never thought I’d have it in me to stand up to her.
“You’ve spent my entire life manipulating me, using me, and treating me like I was less than you. I’ve removed you from my bank account and according to this court order, you cannot contact me or come within a hundred feet of me.”
She’s speechless, staring at the envelope, waiting for any of this to make sense.
“I’m doing this for myself, because my entire life I’ve grown up believing the only way to earn your love is with ballet, to impress the world, to make up for the fact that twenty-nine years ago you made a mistake. You’ve made me pay for your mistakes, treating me as if I was a mistake, and because of that I will never know my own father or have a real family. For my entire life, I believed your lies about me. Every single one of them.”
Her disbelief is turning to anger, and she glares up at me. “You think you can live without me?”
“I know I can,” I say, interrupting her.
“You have always been so impulsive, Hanna. Who is talking you into this? What kinds of friends are you with who would tell you to do this to your own mother?”
Ignore her. Block out every word.
“This was my choice. I don’t need anyone to take care of me, least of all you.”
Turning around, with shaking hands, I start to walk away. She’s still going on behind me, berating me, and there are still unspoken words on my tongue, but none of it matters. I wanted to tell her this doesn’t have to last forever and that I want a real relationship with her, but she’s too busy talking to listen. And I’m too busy moving on with my life.
33
“Are you sure there’s nothing you need, sir?”
Turning back toward the girl standing in the doorway, a pleasant, doe-eyed look on her face, I smile and reply, “No, thank you, Valerie. You can go.”
It’s only two-thirty in the afternoon, and I see the way she chews her lip apologetically, as if she’s sorry a killer blowjob can’t solve my problems. I wish it could.
She waves goodbye and disappears through the apartment just when I hear the phone rings, and she answers it.
“One moment, please.”
Her heels click across the marble as she comes into my office. “Sir, there’s a Mr. Wilde downstairs to see you.”
My heart wants to pound right out of my chest. I have half the mind to ask which Mr. Wilde she’s talking about, but I don’t because I know. It’s not Nash.
“Send him up.”
A few minutes later, the elevator door chimes and Nash’s father steps into my office, a careful tight-lipped smile on his face. It’s a polite, disingenuous smirk reserved for business or uncomfortable conversations. I can already see where this is going.
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in. We were in town so Zara could get something for her studio, and I took the opportunity to see you. Since we didn’t really get to say goodbye.”
Ah, yes. There was no warning when I left Del Rey. I boarded a flight off the island and never looked back.
“I’m glad you did,” I answer cordially as I cross the room to shake his hand. There’s a strange look in his eye, something uncomfortable, like he wants to say something. “Have a seat,” I say gesturing to the chair in front of my desk.
“I want to thank you for helping Nash,” he says, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair.
“You don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job.” I try to force a smile, but it’s too hard, so I give up.
It’s quiet for a moment, him just staring at me, and I try to remember we’re old friends. But inside my head all I can think is Nash has his lips and jawline, and I miss Nash so much I could throw this fucking desk across the room. But I bite down those feelings.