“I—”
“It’s not,” he answered for her. “It’s not only disrespect, Mother, it’s rude. It always has been. I had no reason to share this with you before because your selfishness would only affect me, and I’d had decades to become used to it. Now, should I allow it to continue, it would affect Simone, and I’m afraid that’s unacceptable, so I’m telling you it will no longer continue.”
His mother spoke in his ear.
But he didn’t hear her.
Because he felt an arm slide around his waist and a warm body press against his side.
Simone was there, looking up at him, her pretty face beautiful with gentle concern.
That wasn’t Simone breaking, cracking open, letting him in.
That was just Simone.
He wound his arm around her and shook his head to share he was all right and she had no need for concern.
The expression did not shift, nor did the position of her body.
“Are you listening to me, Stellan?” his mother’s shrill voice sounded in his ear.
He pulled Simone closer and looked back out the windows. “Simone just joined me, so no, actually, I wasn’t.”
“I was saying I have plans with friends. Lunch set with Jenna. I—”
“Then stay with Jenna.”
“I can’t stay with Jenna!” she snapped. “At this late date, it would be rude to ask.”
Did she even listen to herself?
“I know precisely what you mean,” he stated.
“Stellan—”
“You’re not coming here this weekend, Mother. If M is here should you arrive, I’ll instruct her not to let you in.”
“So this is why you never gave me a key, so you could shut me out when you needed to,” she bit.
“No. I never gave you a key because this isn’t your home, it’s mine. I don’t need a family member with access to take care of pets or handle mail when I’m away. I also am of an age I don’t need my mother sauntering in when I’m having dinner guests or I’m entertaining a woman. It would seem perfectly obvious to me considering your penchant to do whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want to do it that my not giving you a key was tacit communication that I desire my privacy. However, since that was not made implicit, I’ll make it explicit. You are not welcome here unless you’re invited here. Is that clear?”
There was a long, heavy moment of quiet before Brigette Lange, not getting her way, unsurprisingly lifted her foot and stepped well over the line.
“I cannot believe you, my only child after I lost Silie, that you’d treat me—”
Automatically, Stellan turned into Simone, took his arm from around her, lifted his hand and curled it tight around the side of her neck while he bent so he saw nothing but her liquid, warm brown eyes.
“Do not even consider bringing Silie into this conversation,” he growled.
He felt Simone’s hands curl deep into the sides of his waist as she rolled up on her toes and pressed her forehead to his.
“I only have you left, Stellan,” his mother returned sharply.
“You’re right. You do. But I’ll point out something I should have shared some time ago. The simple fact that you just said that you lost Silie when we both lost Silie tells me precisely how little you’re aware of the fact that your son has feelings, emotions, and now a life that you know nothing of because you never made the effort to know of it. And because I reached this age with a mother who is more interested in making certain she doesn’t run out of wine than understanding her son has made decisions in his life that mean he no longer will be living it alone, I myself feel no need to make the effort to share. Case in point, you haven’t told me you’re happy for me, Mother.”
“This is because I’m wondering how long she’ll last,” she sniped.
“Because I’m unworthy of earning a good woman’s love?” he asked, and Simone’s fingers dug into his flesh.
There was a moment’s hesitation before, “I’m not going to be a party to this conversation anymore.”
“Answer the question,” Stellan clipped.
“I’m hanging up now,” she declared. “Don’t bother phoning to set up dinner with that woman who lives with you. I’m suddenly feeling the need to get away. Perhaps Coronado. Or Napa. I don’t know when I’ll return.”
Stellan held Simone’s gaze and her neck even as he lifted his head slightly away. “I’m sure you’ll choose Napa.”
“Perhaps, it’s beautiful there.”
“And offers an endless supply of your only reason for breathing,” he pointed out.
Simone’s eyes got big, and she held on to his waist as she pressed her front to his.
“That’s unspeakably insulting,” his mother snapped.
“It’s also what has so far been unspeakably true, though now I’m speaking of it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she asked acidly. “This cruelty. I knew you had your father in you, and here it is, finally coming out. Just like him, hidden under the dutiful son until you have something else you want, and then you throw away what you already have. I hope this woman in your life knows how temporary she undoubtedly is.”
“And there it is, coming out even when you’re mostly sober. Now you can’t deny it, Mother. And I won’t either. I’ve found someone I want to risk it all with, and instead of being happy, if concerned, for me, as a mother should be, it’s somehow about you. Simone has nothing to do with you. But the truly unfortunate part is, through your own actions making it so, I have nothing to do with you either. And just to make it clear, the unfortunate part about that is that’s been the case for decades. You just didn’t realize it until now. But I always did.”
“I have endured—”
“You have endured what thousands of women have endured, and you did it with your health and your beauty intact and a wildly generous settlement. Most of the rest don’t have that. They still carry on and make no excuses because they don’t have a choice. With what you have and what you squandered, you especially have none.”
“I think we’re done here,” she bit out.
“Since the last time I saw you when you were well into bottle number three, you have not been this honest with me. In other words, agreed. We are very much done here.”
He knew she didn’t disconnect, waiting for him to think on his words, and back out of them.
So he disconnected.
“Baby,” Simone whispered immediately, pressing close.
“I’m fine,” Stellan said curtly.
“No way you’re fine,” she replied gently. “That sounded ugly and intense.”
“Then it sounded what it was.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“She decided to come down for the weekend. I decided that I’d rather she not.”
“And you told her about me.”
“And I told her about you.”
“And she wasn’t a big fan of that.”
“You didn’t factor. That isn’t how Brigette Lange works. The fact she could not come down for the weekend factored, and it degenerated from there. She just used you as an excuse.”
“You got into the drinking,” she said hesitantly.
“Yes, I did.”
“And she lashed back with—”
“This whole thing proving that I’m like my father.”
It was in that precise moment, Stellan’s world changed.
Like it did when he climaxed with her, it wiped clean, and there was nothing.
Nothing but her.
But when his climaxes would fade, the world would come back as it was and always had been.
This time, it did not.
This time, there was a different kind of climax.
And when it was done, he knew nothing would be the same.
It started with Simone stating, “You … have got … to be kidding me.”
“Simone, I told you that she would say things like—”
She pulled free from him by taking a huge step away, but leaning immediately back toward him and screaming, “You have got to be kidding me!”
Stellan went still in the face of her fury.
It was a mistake.
She moved like a flash, tearing his phone out of his hand.
Unfortunately, it was still engaged so she did not have to enter his password.
Therefore, she was open to going to his recent calls, which was something she did.
“Darling,” he murmured, moving toward her.