Inevitable - Kristen Granata Page 0,48

tight, suffocating hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby girl,” she whispers into my hair.

I shake her off. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

She releases me and fixes her hair, a nervous habit she’s always had. “Of course. Come in. Is there anything I can get you two? Water, coffee? If you’re hungry, I can make us some sandwiches.”

“Water would be great. Thank you,” Graham says.

“Got any tequila? I’m going to need something a little stronger than coffee to get through this day.”

Mom raises her eyebrow. “But you’re driving, and it’s only noon.”

“You don’t get to play the judgmental Mom card.”

She lifts her hands. “I’m not judging. Tequila it is.” She gestures to the couches. “I’ll be right back with your drinks. Make yourselves at home.”

My eyes roam over the interior. It’s simple, plain, almost like she just moved in and only unpacked the necessities. A cream-colored couch with a matching loveseat, a modest television, and a wooden coffee table make up the living room, and a bistro table sits in what looks like the dining room a few feet away. The only picture in the entire space is one of me and Eric on the beach when we were at our vacation home in the Hamptons.

I pick up the frame, a small smile touching my lips. Eric was so excited to build sandcastles that day.

“It feels like a lifetime ago,” Mom says behind me.

“It was.” I turn to face her and accept the glass she’s holding out to me. I take three long gulps and move to sit on the couch.

Graham thanks her for the water and takes a seat beside me. He rests his hand on my knee, his silent show of support, and I’m tempted to cover his hand with mine. But I don’t.

“You didn’t say much on the phone,” Mom begins, lowering herself onto the loveseat. “What made you decide to come find me?”

I take another few sips of liquid courage and set the glass on top of the coffee table. “I found Eric’s suicide letters.”

Mom’s mouth falls open. “Oh, Eva ...”

“Tell me what happened.”

“You didn’t talk to your father about this?”

“I did. I want to hear your rendition.”

Her gaze drops down to her hands clasped in her lap. “Eric had a gambling problem. It was always the same pattern: He’d get in over his head, owe someone money, and your father would bail him out. But that night, your father was adamant about not bailing him out. We wanted Eric to go to rehab. We told him we’d give him the money under that stipulation.” She pauses, shaking her head. “But Eric refused. He wanted the money, and that was it.”

“How did I not know about this? Eric and I were close. It doesn’t make any sense that he wouldn’t tell me about his addiction.”

“Eric didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want to worry you. He looked up to you so much, Eva.”

Hot tears sting my eyes, but I will them away. “Why did you leave?”

A tear slips down Mom’s cheek. “Your father made me leave. I never wanted to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to help Eric. Despite the countless times we’d helped him, I couldn’t tell him no. Especially not after the way he looked after those men got to him.” Her eyes bounce from Graham to me. “But your father wouldn’t listen. Then after Eric died, I couldn’t look at your father anymore. I couldn’t be near him without my skin crawling. I was furious with him, blaming him for Eric’s death.

“Finally, I told him I wanted to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know what happened. But he served me with divorce papers. He’d gone behind my back and set me up in a house outside the city. He gave me fifty-thousand dollars as a parting gift as long as I went quietly. He said if I didn’t leave, he’d leave me with nothing.”

And there it is.

Once again, money takes priority.

“So you chose the money over me,” I say crossing my arms.

Her shoulders slump. “I didn’t have a job. If I didn’t take the money, Where would I have gone? What would I have done? I was stuck. I didn’t want to take you down with me.”

“The money doesn’t matter!” I shout. “We would’ve had each other! We would’ve had the truth! You knew about this. You could’ve done something, anything! How could you let this happen to Eric?”

Mom covers her face with her hands, sobbing into

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