“Is there anything else, or did you call just to threaten me?”
“Your mom called. She wants you to come to dinner on Saturday.”
“I can’t do Saturday.”
“Well, then call her and tell her that.”
“You do realize that you work for me, not the other way around, right? I’m the one who tellsyouto call people.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “She’s your mom, Hayden. She deserves more than a call from your assistant.”
“My mom loves you.”
“Not as much as she loves you.”
“Fine.” I’d been avoiding my mother’s calls ever since Dad told me about the cancer. It was pure cowardice and a crappy thing to do, but telling myself that didn’t make it any easier to pick up the phone.
I hung up on Sierra and glared at my cell as if it wereto blame for the guilt sitting in the pit of my stomach. But the fault was all mine. Sierra hadn’t told me anything that wasn’t true. Maybe I’d inherited my dad’s asshole gene and no matter what I did, I was destined to hurt people who didn’t deserve it.
“Hayden.” The relief in my mother’s voice was obvious when she answered my call on the second ring. “Are you okay?”
No, Mom, your asshole of a husband is insisting I get married this month so I can make sure you get to continue living in your house and Miles doesn’t lose the dream he’s been working toward his whole life. And because I can’t get married without a woman, I guilted my ex-girlfriend into fake marrying me for the next nine months.
“I’m fine,” I grumbled. “How are you doing?”
“Fine? Really, Hayden, you expect me to believe that?”
“Yes, I do.”
Her sigh was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Are you coming to dinner on Saturday?”
“I can’t come Saturday. I have a date.” More like a wedding, but she didn’t need to know that. I wasn’t dragging my family to my wedding for a marriage of convenience.
“You could always bring her,” my mother said with a noticeable lack of optimism.
“We already have reservations.”
“Maybe next weekend then.”
“Yeah, maybe. I’ll talk to Sierra.”
“Hayden…” There was a pause like she was trying to figure out what to say or maybe debating whether to say anything at all. “You know that it’s okay to not be okay, right? You can tell me anything. I mean that.”
“I know.” A part of me wanted to take her up on that offer, to crawl into her lap like I used to do when I was a little kid before my father put a stop to it. I wanted to tell her everything, to lean on her like I was still a child instead of a nearly-thirty-year-old man. But this wasn’t her problem to fix for me. If she got involved, it would only make things worse.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too.” And that was why I couldn’t tell her about Dad’s ultimatum or that I was marrying Danielle for show. I couldn’t hurt her like that. I’d let her believe the marriage was real, and when it ended, I’d just say that it didn’t work out between us. She never needed to know about Dad’s involvement or the inheritance.
Me
You are coming, right?
Danielle
Did you seriously just ask me if I’m showing up to my own wedding?
Caleb isn’t answering my texts.
