She says nothing, and I know I’m right. I just scoff, shaking my head. I was holding out vain hope that she would prove to me my idolization was worth it. Looking at Bea in her Prada and pearls, I see it was all a mirage.
“You know, I’ve spent the last thirteen years feeling like an imposter,” I say, admitting it to myself more than her. “Poor, underprivileged Tess with her loud opinions and her financial aid scholarships. I didn’t buy my way into your world, Bea. I earned it. I worked hard and got accepted into the Ivy League. Meeting Troy and your family, I felt tapped for greatness. I was finally leaving all the chaos of my old life behind me. I was chosen. I was in. I learned the rules, and I let you all chip pieces of me away so I could fit inside your little boxes.”
“You talk as though we mutilated you,” she says, her face unreadable. “Like it wasn’t you being the driver of your own fate. You’re not a victim, Tess.”
“Oh, I know,” I reply. “I asked for everything I got. I stayed when I should have run. I sat quiet when I should have shouted from the rooftops that everything around me was artifice and bullshit. I fought so hard, Bea. And for what? What did it earn me in the end? What do I have to show for a decade of living in your illustrious shadow? Here at the end of things, I see the truth: I was never really in…was I? Not with him, and certainly not with you.”
“I loved you in my way,” she says. “And Troy tried—”
“Don’t,” I say, raising my hand. “No justifications. We’re past them. I don’t know what you came here for, but I really don’t think you’ll find it, Bea.” I lower my hand back to my side, heart in my throat. “I think you should go,” I whisper. “I need you to go.”
Behind me the printer lets out another alarming beep. A paper jam or a problem with the alignment tray. I spin away from her, flipping the switch to turn the whole machine off. Once my back is turned, I take a deep breath, gripping the sides of the machine.
“I’m not here to cause you any more heartbreak,” she says gently.
I slowly turn back around. “Then why are you here?”
Setting her Hermès Kelly on the desk, she opens it with perfectly manicured nails, her massive, emerald-cut diamond flashing on her finger. She pulls out a blue legal file and hands it out to me. “I came to give you this.”
My eyes lock on the document. “And what is that?”
She sets it down on the corner of the desk between us. “Open it and see.”
Heart in my throat, I snatch up the file and open it. Tears sting my eyes as I read the bold statement along the top: PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
“Oh god,” I whisper, my fingers brushing tentatively over the page. It’s signed. “How did you…”
“My son is an imperfect person, Tess,” she admits. “I know this. I have always known this. He is quick to anger and action. He can be obstinate. Lord knows he and I have fought many battles over the long years. You fought your battles too.”
We both know that’s an understatement. “Why now, Bea? What changed?”
She clears her throat. “Troy is a passionate man, Tess. Sometimes that passion overtakes reason. Without reason, we can make poor decisions. We can take actions that are…regrettable.”
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to puzzle out the truth. “What are you trying to say?”
She holds my gaze, her eyes sharpening as she lifts her chin. This is corporate mergers and acquisitions Bea, boardroom Bea, “let’s make a deal” Bea.
“Oh god,” I whisper, letting the truth hit me like a crashing wave. I see the moment her eyes flicker, and she knows I know.
“I need to know it ends here,” she says, gesturing to the papers. “You have your freedom. Now you can go…and leave Troy in peace.”
I hear the words she’s not saying: Now you can go…and don’t press charges.
Indignation hardens in my chest. She’s not here for me, and these papers are no gift. They’re a buyout. A hush payment. She’s protecting her son. She will always only ever protect Troy. Not me. Never me.
“What finally tipped your scales? You ignored the abuse because he was always careful. There was never any proof, no witnesses. It was my word against his—”
“Tess—”
“So, what changed, Bea?” I press. “Did you find out about the stalking and harassment? Maybe someone tipped you off about the photographer he’s had trailing me for weeks.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, every inch the boardroom tiger protecting her wayward cub.
I narrow my eyes, hooking on the truth. “It was the TRO, wasn’t it?”
Her eyes flash, and I know I’m right.
“He used your name, didn’t he? He roped you in to pull strings with the judge. You’re not just protecting him now. You’re here protecting yourself…aren’t you?”
“You have what you wanted,” she says, pointing to the papers. “The divorce. That’s what you said you wanted, yes? We were generous. It’s an even split, per the laws of the state of Ohio. All assets, all properties—”
“I don’t care about assets and property.” I slap the documents down on the desk. “That’s your obsession. You care about the look of things. I never did.”
“I know,” she replies solemnly. “It’s how I knew this marriage was doomed to fail.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I drop my hand down to the desk, gripping it tight.
“You were always too headstrong, too uncultured,” she goes on. “You fit into our lives like a rusty, broken wheel. I did my best, for Troy’s sake. You were what he wanted at the time, and I can deny him nothing.” She pauses, her gaze tracing my features.
I lean instinctively away, hating her appraising eyes on me.
“And then I saw how broken you were,” she says. “A bird without her feathers, yearning to fly. So, I took you under my wing. I played the part of your doting mother, your business advisor. I taught you to dress and speak and act. All the while I watched as you two pecked at each other. I watched you bring out the worst in my son, and I was helpless to stop it.”
“And his worst carved out the best of me,” I challenge. “I thought it was gone, lost forever. I thought I would never know that wild, happy Tess again. You call me a rusty, broken wheel. Do you know what Ryan calls me?”
She purses her lips, saying nothing.
“Dream girl,” I say, a smile lighting my face. Love for him fills me, lighting me up as I face down my last remaining dragon, sword and shield in hand. “You’re right about me, Bea. All my life, I’ve been a lost bird, looking for a home, somewhere I could feel safe and loved and free to be myself. In my ignorance, I thought maybe money and power could buy those things. I was so wrong. It took me walking away from everything to find that home at last.”
“I assume your new home is Jacksonville?” she asks.
“No. My home is me. It’s been me all along. I am everything I need. I am enough just as I am. I am smart and driven. I’m kind. I’m passionate and funny and sexy as hell.” I square my shoulders, confidence flowing through me. “I came to Jacksonville to be closer to Rachel. I thought she was my home. But I was wrong. She’s just the first person to hold up a mirror and show me that I’m enough.”
“And this new young man?” she presses, one brow raised.
My smile widens. “He’s my mirror ball. His every surface reflects my perfections back at me. He loves me for exactly who I am. I’m not too loud for him or too opinionated. He doesn’t cringe when I tell jokes because he’s worried I’m funnier than him, pulling away his spotlight. He lets my light shine out as brightly as I want, and he shines it all back on me. I have never known a love or an acceptance of self like I have with Ryan.”
“Well,” she says, emotion thick in her throat. “It sounds like you got everything you always wanted, then.”
I nod. “I’m happy now, yes. And I’m free. Even without these,” I add, tapping the divorce papers. “I was already free in my heart. These free me on paper, too, the last chains tying me down to the rotting edifice of the life I thought I wanted.”
“Rotting edifice?” she says with a raised brow. “Hardly flattering.”