“You slept with him when he was your client!” I say when it finally all comes together.
“I did,” she replies with a nod. “And I would make the same choices again even if I knew I wouldn’t be able to practice law.”
“Wow, Mom. That’s one helluva story,” I tell her while shaking my head in disbelief. “He also told me about the time you kicked him out of the house when I was three or four.”
“Did he?” she says through narrowed eyes. “Your father is a very chatty Cathy today for some unknown reason.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” I reply because I don’t want them to get in an argument about what he told me. “He was just trying to show me that there are bumps along the road in every marriage.”
“There are,” my mom agrees. “So whatever happened with Camilla, if you wanted to, you could try to work it out.”
“I really don’t think that’s possible,” I mutter.
“Since I know you’re not one to give up easily, I’m going to take a guess and say that she hurt you?” she asks without coming out and saying the words. My mom has always been intuitive and shit like that.
“She did, and I’m not sure if I can ever forgive her,” I admit.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive her, but I do think you maybe owe her a chance to make amends. Everyone makes mistakes, so shouldn’t you try to hear her side of the story? Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding.”
“Trust me, there was no misunderstanding about it,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “I moved out because I can’t even stand to look at her, Mom.”
“Wow, then I’m so sorry, honey,” she says with a pat to my arm. “I know you’re hurt and angry, but do you still love her?”
Blowing out a breath, I respond honestly, “I wish I didn’t. It would make filing the paperwork a helluva lot easier.”
“Sometimes a separation like that can be beneficial, to give you both time to heal and figure out what you want before you sit down and talk to see if you can work things out,” she says. “But you know I’m always here if you need someone to vent to or whatever.”
“I know,” I agree. “And I’ve been talking to Cassidy about it the last few months. She thinks leaving Camilla was the right decision.”
“Maybe it was. But Cassidy could also be a little biased when it comes to you,” my mother points out. “Does she still have hearts in her eyes when she sees you?”
“No,” I reply. “Cass is different. She’s all grown up now and has changed over the last few years. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice before.”
“Notice what?” my mom asks.
“That she’s more outgoing and has all of these new guy friends.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. And I mean, I get why. Cass constantly radiates this warmth that everyone around her is drawn to. I guess it just took her awhile to come out of her shell. Back when we were kids, I was her only friend.”
“So you’re saying that you miss being the center of her universe?” my mom surmises with a grin.
“I guess so, yeah,” I agree. “But I’m happy for her opening up to new people or whatever.”
“Are you really? Or have you finally removed the friend goggles to see her as possibly more…”
“What? No,” I immediately deny. “The friendship Cass and I have is even more sacred than vows. We’re forever, and there’s never been a doubt in my mind about that.”
“If you say so,” my mom replies in the tone of voice that says she doesn’t believe me.
Chapter Eight
Cassidy
I’m hanging upside down on the sofa when two enormous tree-trunk sized jean legs block the black television screen and the longest commercial break ever. I follow the tree up to the limbs and smile when I see his handsome face. “Xavier! You’re back!”
His beautiful upside-down face lowers to mine and he sniffs. “Are you drunk?”
“My mom came over,” I explain. Whispering, I tell him, “She’s easier to swallow with a little wine.”
“How much wine did you have, Cass?”
“Bottle,” I reply with a hiccup.
“You drank the entire bottle?” Xavier asks.
“Yep. Don’t sound so judgy-wudgy.”
“You outgrow being a lightweight?” he says with a crooked grin.
“Nope,” I respond.
When I lower my legs to turn right side up, the room spins around so fast I have to grab onto the armrest and hold on until it stops. Xavier is still towering over me in front of the sofa, looking down on me with an unknown expression on his face. There’s judgment maybe mixed with concern or something else in his silence.
“What?” I ask him.
“You’re gonna be throwing up in the morning, if you even make it that long,” he predicts.
“Probably right,” I agree. “I’m gonna puke on my phone and then make you pull it out of the toilet.”
“So you found it?” he asks with a huge smile. “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out where I left it.”
“Oh, I found it all right,” I tell him while staring at the fly of his jeans. “Wait, what we were talking about?”
“Never mind,” he says when he turns around and sits down on the sofa next to me. He’s so heavy that I sink and fall toward him.
“Whoa,” I say when I catch myself on his hard chest and get a whiff of his rich boy cologne. “You smell really, really, good.” Unable to help myself, I press my nose closer, and it sort of ends up in the crook of his armpit. Oh, but even it smells lovely.
“Ah, thanks,” Xavier replies with a chuckle when he slings his arm around my shoulders. “I’ve never seen you like this, because one beer would put you to sleep when we were teenagers.”
“I don’t remember that,” I say, closing my eyes and inhaling more of his deodorant. “I took the lid off of the Tom Ford
