“I know we do,” she nods, wringing a tissue in her hands. And yet, we sit in silence for what feels like forever.
“I’ll start.” She says with a heavy sigh, “Ophelia, there are some things I need to tell you about your father.”
I blink, my eyes wide and blank. Out of all the times for her to bring this up…
I have no idea what lies the Elites have fed to her or how. “Wait, Mom…” I stop her. “Before you start talking about him…about me being gone…”
“Oh sweetie, don’t worry about that,” she waves her hand with a sniffle. “The principal called and told me Coach Granger had been keeping you late for practice and that he saw you leaving every day with that Emmett boy. I tried to call and tell you to come home, but your phone was dead. Then the police called and told me what happened at Emmett’s house. Are you alright, honey? That’s a terrible thing to go through. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
A sarcastic grin eases across my face, out of my control, and I look down to my hands, shaking my head. I don’t know if I’m more surprised that they went to such lengths to keep her from interfering or that she actually bought all of that so easily.
“You weren’t mad?” I gaff, peering into her. “You didn’t try to come find me?”
“I wanted to, but Brendan said we should give you some space,” she explains. “You’ve always been so responsible and well behaved. You were bound to get a wild streak at some point. When the police called…I felt terrible for not coming to find you. Maybe if I had…”
If she had. Suddenly I’m relieved she didn’t try to find me. If she had tried to, the Elites may have taken care of her just to get her out of the way.
“That wasn’t your fault, Mom,” I clasp my hand to hers, unsure of what else to say.
“When the police said Thomas Jameson was dead, I…well…this will sound terrible, but I thought your father had done it,” she confesses through sobs. “But then they said it was a suicide, and I just felt so guilty. I felt bad for not telling you more about your dad in case he ever did try to come back into our lives. For not protecting you from the possibility of something like that.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming out that she’s right. My father did kill Thomas Jameson, and if she had warned me about what kind of person my father was…it might not have done any good or changed anything. But maybe I would have made different decisions along the way. I could have had somewhat of an upper hand.
“Mom, I know all about my real dad,” I blurt out finally, searching her face to see how she’ll respond. She looks completely shocked, her bottom lip trembling. “The kids around here…they know the story of his family and everything that he did. They told me.”
“You should have come to talk to me!” she shrieks. “Ophelia, you never should have had to learn about all of that on your own!”
“I guess that’s why I was gone for a bit,” I murmur, knowing she’d never understand what that really means.
“I understand,” she nods, blotting the tears from her eyes, squeezing my hand tight. “So then you know he had it out for the Jamesons. That’s why when I heard about Thomas…I just jumped to conclusions.”
I look at the regret and sadness in my mom and wish I could take it all away for her. She deserved better than my father, and so did I. The thought stings as I think back to what Emmett said earlier. Even he admits I deserve better. Part of me wants to see if he can be better for me, but I’m not going to let myself go there.
If I meant what I said about wanting him to let me go, I needed to do the same and let him go. I’m eager to find my way back to the person I was before I ever met him. Before enduring all the torture of the Elites. But I don’t know if I will ever shake this feeling of unsteady ground beneath my feet. Now that I’ve seen firsthand just how wrong it can go and how fast, I will always be worried that around any corner…everything could go to shit again.
I’m quiet, afraid if I say too much else everything will spew out of me. “Mom, should we be afraid?” I ask timidly. “Of Dad I mean. In case he ever came back around. I…I heard he had hurt you once. When the Elites framed you for that affair. Do you think he’d ever do anything like that again?”
“No, sweetie,” she
replies confidently. “I don’t think he ever meant to hurt me. But…who are the Elites?”
“Oh,” I stammer, pinching the bridge of my nose. “That’s what they call them. The Jamesons. The Whitworths. The Blackwaters. They’re called the Elites. They didn’t call them that back in the day?”
“Ah. Well…I don’t think so. But I don’t really know. I stayed out of all the high school cliques as much as I could. Which is how your father preferred it. He said it was all too cutthroat for someone like me. As long as I was with him, no one messed with me. Other than that, I mostly stayed to myself,” she explains, her eyes drifting to distant memories.
“But Trey and Vincent’s mom…,” I puzzle out loud. “You seemed so friendly with them at the hospital. You had said their mom and you were friends. I thought…”
“We were friendly with each other in school,” she twists her lips glibly. “Like I said, no one had the nerve to be unkind to me when I was with your father.”
If only it could have been like that for me. The only perk that came with Emmett being attracted to me was being tortured, kidnapped, beaten and having my life threatened. And my dad sure didn’t do anything to help me. I still wasn’t even entirely sure he wouldn’t have killed me if it came down to it.
But I guess the kind of protection my mom was talking about was reserved for Vivian in my case. The real girlfriend. I’m suddenly overwhelmed, unable to swallow away the hardness in my throat.
“I’m tired,” I whisper. “I’m going to get some rest.”
“I understand, sweetie,” my mom says sweetly, standing to hug me goodnight. I head for the stairs. “Ophelia,” she adds as I walk away. “Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”
“Come hunt me down if I do, Mom,” I smirk, trying to pass it off as a joke. But I mean it with every fiber of my being.