come,” my mother answered.
My heartbeat sped up in my ears, anxiety threatening to cripple me.
That was the night of my exhibit.
“I actually can’t. Mom, remember … I told you to keep that day open.”
All the time spent on my pieces and all the money saved for the space led to that one day. All to that one day.
I hadn’t exactly told her that I was showcasing my work on that day. I’d just informed her that it was very important that she left that day open for me.
“Oh, honey”—she visibly frowned—“what’s going on again?”
I gritted my teeth. “I told you, I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh. Can you just reschedule?” Her eyes teetered to everyone in the room—from Richard to Sandy and finally resting on me.
I blinked at her. “No, I can’t,” I snapped.
I had told her that this was a very special date and that I needed her to come. I’d had her physically check her phone calendar in front of me before I secured the space to ensure that she would be available.
“Honey, I’m sure whatever you have going on …” She paused and assessed my features before continuing, “Did you book tickets somewhere? Could we reschedule? I mean, this is a black-tie event for your sister.”
There was no sympathy shown in the crowd of three. None. There would be no arguing, no winning in this situation. But I was only mad at one of them—my mother. Because she’d promised. She’d promised me that she would be there.
“Honey …”
I shot up so fast that the chair knocked over. “It’s fine. What I do, what’s important to me, has never mattered to you anyway.”
“Charlie—”
“No, Mom. And if you want to know what’s so important on that day, it’s my exhibit to showcase my artwork. But since you think my work is utter shit, you shouldn’t go anyway.”
My mother stood, her hand outstretched, but I was too far mad to even listen or turn around. I stormed out of the house and into my haven—the pool house—where I admired all my work by myself.
I thought my mother would come check on me, but I knew her. She was giving me “space.” But what I needed was for her to apologize, to tell me that she would pull through on her promises for once, to pick me and choose me over her new family.
That night was the first time since my father had died that I cried myself to sleep. I wished he were still here. I wished that he could see me showcase this exhibit. I wished my mother loved me unconditionally, just how my father had loved me. But all my wishes would never come because my father was dead.
Connor
Charlie was in a sullen mood today, and I was determined to make her feel better. Whatever had gotten her down, I would cheer her up. It was my mission of the day.
But I couldn’t get her alone. Every time I turned, there was Casey and Alyssa, chatting it up by her desk, like they didn’t have their normal jobs to do.
“Hey.” I walked on over, knowing it was the end of the day and I wouldn’t see Charlie tonight because she had plans to get ready for her exhibit. “Can I talk to you in my office? It’s about the rebranding.”
“It’s fine. We have work to do anyway,” Casey said, turning to walk away, her tone kind of annoyed, as though I’d interrupted some very important conversation.
Alyssa stood from the edge of Charlie’s desk. “Hmm. Rebranding sounds kind of fun.” She winked, following Casey out.
When they were out of sight, I crooked my finger at Charlie, raising an eyebrow. When she leaned in closer, I stole a kiss, and she widened her eyes.
“In my office,” I said.
“No, Connor.” Her eyebrows scrunched. “Not now. I just don’t have the energy.”
She thought I was talking about sex, but I wasn’t. I mean, come on … I cared for her. That wasn’t the only thing on my mind. It was mostly on my mind, but not the only thing on my mind.
“Just come to my office, Charlie.” I turned around, not giving her a second to deny me.
A few moments later, Charlie walked into my office, dragging her feet, her eyes downturned.
She crossed her arms over her chest, not moving far from the door.
“Charlie, sit.” I tipped my chin to the empty chair in front of my desk.
“Like a dog?” She shot me a look. “Connor, I’m in a foul mood. You