hand in his and kisses the back of it. “Is it only me or have you become even more beautiful over the years?”
She laughs, the sound throaty. “You’re such a darling, Ronan.”
He bows to her like the proper gentleman he’ll never be and leaves.
Mum joins me at the counter, walking in that confident, lady-like way. She’s wearing a red dress. No kidding. Her golden locks are styled like an actress’s and she has perfect makeup made for models.
When I told her she’s not supposed to look better than the bride, she said, “Nonsense. Do you want the media to say Cynthia Davis is heartbroken over her husband’s remarriage? I need to look my absolute best.”
That was after she cried in the bathroom and I hugged her, crying too, but for different reasons.
Yes, I now realise my parents will never be together, but I lost something else too.
“How many times have I told you that you don’t have to do this, Babydoll?” She glances down at the containers with distaste. “Your father pays people for that.”
“I just want to help.”
“Go outside and take pictures. That'll be your greatest help. But don’t you dare play the piano and appear too happy for him.”
“I’ll go out in a bit.” We have that dreadful new family picture we need to take.
“Helen looks awful in that dress. She should’ve put in more effort.”
“Mum…”
“What? I’m just saying. I’d hoped for some competition, but she doesn’t even stand a chance. Ever since school, she’s always been a nerd.”
“Can we stop talking about Helen?”
“Fine. I can’t believe your scoundrel father invited the entire party,” she hisses under her breath. “It’s like he’s out to embarrass me and make me look pitiful in front of them.”
Or he just wanted them to share his happiness. But I don’t say that, or Mum would go bonkers. She constantly thinks I’m siding with him anyway.
“You can leave, Mum. You don’t have to stay.”
“Cynthia Davis running from her ex-husband’s wedding. Do you want to see that in tomorrow’s headlines? I thought you were on my side, Silver.”
I’m on both your sides. I want to yell, but I don’t, because that will freak her out more than the words themselves.
“Well, are you?” she insists, her brow furrowing.
“Of course I am.”
“That’s my Babydoll. Now, come here. Let me look at you.” She takes me by the hand and spins me around so she can get a full view of my soft pink dress with tulle as a skirt. It stops a little above my knees and is tight at my breasts and waist. My hair is straight and falls to the small of my back in thick blonde strands. I have worn light pink lipstick to match.
“I’m so proud of how you’ve grown up into a fine lady, Babydoll. Happy birthday.” She kisses my cheek and I nearly break then and there.
Papa and Helen did wish me a happy birthday this morning, but they seem to have forgotten all about me now. Not that I blame them, but still.
It’s the first time Mum is one step ahead of everyone.
“Your father is a selfish bastard for scheduling his wedding on your birthday.” Disgust is written all over her face. “He was out to ruin your special day.”
“Mum…” I trail off.
“What? I’m only stating facts.” She pulls out her phone and brings me to her side. “Let’s take a picture.”
My lips curve in an automatic smile as I stare at the camera. It comes too naturally to me now, I don’t even have to stop before I fake it.
Mum posts the shot on Twitter with the caption: Having the greatest fun on my only daughter’s eighteenth birthday. This girl right here is the future. #MotherandDaughter #ReplicaofMe
Almost immediately, the comments filter in about how she looks like my eldest sister, not my mother, or how I turned out stunning like her.
It’s the type of comments that Mum thrives on. The type she screenshots and sends me in our chat. She saves each and every one that says I’m taking after her, not Papa, then forwards it to the both of us.
I can’t help stealing a look at her wrist. It’s covered with a thick watch, but I can never forget what that watch is hiding. For the rest of my life, I’ll constantly worry that Mum’s black thoughts will one day take over and I’ll lose her.
Cole has always said I’m Mum’s puppet and that I’m turning like her, but that bastard didn’t see what I did. He