“What do you want?”
“I was just wondering, Mom. Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” she asks.
“Don’t play dumb, Mom. You know what I mean.”
“You mean why did I call the police on your stepfather?” she asks, obviously gloating. It’s like she’s proud of her own brilliance or something. Like it takes a lot of intelligence to call the cops and make a false allegation against your husband.
“Why did you lie?”
“Why did you fuck him, you little slut!?”
The words rip out of her mouth with such venom that I actually take a step back. She may be a terrible mother, but she’s never hit me. Maybe today will be the day she does.
“Is that why? You’re mad at me so you take it out on him? Or is this just your way of ruining my life?”
My mom sighs and takes a sip of whatever is left in the champagne bottle. She and Harry would actually be good for each other. She’d probably fit in around his dorm next year, partying with hockey boys and sorority girls.
“You’re going to thank me one day,” she snaps in that know-it-all voice I so despise. “You think he loves you, but he’s just using you for that young little body of yours.”
I get it now. She isn’t jealous; she resents me. I have something she doesn’t have anymore. Youth.
Despite my hatred for her, I can’t help but feel pained by this realization. She is still my mother after all.
“Using people,” I muse. “That’s something you’re good at, isn’t it, Mom? You used him for his money and now you’re using society to get back at him by falsely accusing him of rape.”
“He deserves it!” My mom’s face distorts into a twisted mask of rage. She vaults to her feet and whips the champagne bottle across the room. It shatters against the counter, sending shards of glass everywhere. “Walking around like he owns the world. Thinking he can have whatever he wants! So I played him, I used him, and now he’s going to jail because of me. Not because he did anything to me, but because I said he did. Who has the power now?”
I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but I just can’t help it. The last tears I will ever shed for her fall from my eyes. I focus, cement this moment in my mind, then turn away.
It’s time to go see Daddy.
It’s time to fix this.
Epilogue
Pixie
Five years later…
My hands close carefully around the sphere of clay that will soon become a bowl, the last in the set I’ve been working on for a week now. They’ll be going to a new restaurant in town, The Hollybrook, a luxury bistro serving an eight-course tasting menu that changes each season. Once they saw my work at my show last week, they commissioned me to handle all their crockery. And as just one girl doing her own work, that was a big ask.
But I’m up for it.
In fact, I’m up for anything these days. Why? Because these days, I feel invincible.
“Haven’t you finished that up yet? I’m starving and need my wife back in the kitchen.”
Without turning, I smile and turn my head to the side to accept my husband’s kiss. His lips press gently against my neck, careful not to disturb my work. He still sends a shiver through my spine, but I’m good at controlling it now when working on a piece. I breathe deep, embracing his scent.
“I have to work and make you dinner?”
Baron steps around in front of me and takes a seat on his usual chair. He loves watching me work, and I love him for that.
“What good is a wife who doesn’t cook?” he asks.
“You’re dangerously close,” I warn him.
“Dangerously close to what?”
“To becoming a permanent part of this bowl!”
He laughs and stretches his strong arms above his head. “I’m only kidding. I brought in a chef tonight. And a dessert chef so we can celebrate the end of this project.”
“It’s only going to be the end if I don’t screw this bowl up,” I smile. “So shhh, and let me finish.”
“Did you just shhh me?” Baron asks. He’s teasing. He still loves to tease me. I guess you can’t completely reform a bully.
But I like it. No, I love it. Just like I love him. Totally and completely.
With his eyes on me, I’m able to focus even more on my work. Having him by my side is all I could ever ask. My hands move up and down as I shape the clay into a bowl. Finally, when it’s the right shape to match its siblings, I slow the wheel and look up.
“I guess now I know why your handjobs got so much better when I sent you to ceramics classes.”
“Oh my God!” I laugh, splashing him with dirty clay water. In an instant, I’m in his arms.
“Wait, it has to go into the oven!”
“No, you wait,” he growls. And then he’s all over me.
I’m on my back on the table as he sweeps things out of the way to make room. I’m wearing the least-sexy outfit I could possibly be wearing: torn up sweatpants and a ratty, oversized T-shirt, and my hair is up in a messy bun, but that does nothing to deter him.
Not that I want it to.
With one tug, my pants are at my ankles. Baron’s eyes flare, and he’s between my legs, his strong tongue finding the sacred spot that drives me wild. I moan, close my eyes to the pleasure and submit to it – to him.
How can life be so perfect? After all we went through…
My plan worked. I got my mom to confess to setting Baron up, then quickly went downstairs to the surveillance system he installed and got the recording. Not only that, but also the tapes of her cheating on him.
I brought them to his lawyers, and in 24-hours, he was released. Two days
