“So now your ego is bruised?”
“My ego is fine. This isn’t about my ego, it’s about you and all the things you didn’t share with me. She did it to hurt you.”
Brenna swallowed. “Yes.”
“You knew?”
“When she discovered she was pregnant, she came to see me.” Brenna closed her eyes, remembering how her mother had urged her to get out of bed, forced her to get dressed and face her tormentor. How she’d given her makeup to cleverly conceal the ravages of misery and pulled out a dress she’d bought that Brenna had never worn. The irony was that on that one occasion, Brenna had finally been the daughter her mother had always wanted.
She’d walked down the stairs on wobbly legs, wondering how she was going to do this, and then she’d felt her mother by her side, felt the strength that came from female solidarity.
“Congratulations.” The word had been forced through her stiff lips, and Janet’s eyes had narrowed, and it was obvious she wasn’t sure if Brenna was congratulating her on the baby or on the fact she’d scored the winning move.
“Why did she come and see you?” Tyler’s harsh question dragged her back into the real world.
“She wanted to make sure I knew. She apologized for hurting me, for the fact that you’d chosen her over me. And I wasn’t feeling great,” sick, heartbroken, dying a thousand deaths of misery, “but I could see she wasn’t feeling great, either. And that made me feel worse, because she had what I’d always wanted, and it meant nothing to her.”
Tyler closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “She told me today that she’d wanted a termination but her parents wouldn’t allow it.”
Brenna felt as if someone was squeezing her heart. “I’m so thankful for that.”
He paced over to the window. “Why didn’t you tell me later on? Maybe not before, but when the whole thing exploded, you could have told me.”
“For what purpose? The whole situation was stressful enough for everyone without me adding in that extra pressure. And I wasn’t really thinking about you. I was in agony.”
He turned to look at her, his expression loaded with guilt. “Do you know the craziest thing about this whole situation? Yeah, it was all my fault—I was irresponsible and I thought with my libido and not my brain—but if I say I wish it had never happened then that means I’m saying I wish Jess had never happened, and that isn’t how I feel.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
“She’s the best thing about this—” he swallowed “—and the worst thing is the fact that I hurt you.”
“It’s in the past, Tyler.”
“Is it? Janet was in my house this morning. Like it or not, she’s Jess’s mother. She’s always going to be part of my life.”
“No, she isn’t.” A shaky voice came from the doorway, and they both turned.
Jess stood there, her face the color of a fresh fall of snow. “She was the bully. My mom? That’s true?”
Brenna stood there, helpless, horrified, wondering how much she’d heard.
It was Tyler who spoke. “It seems that way. And I’m sorry you heard that, sweetheart.”
“I’m not. I want to know—” visibly distressed, Jess dug her hands into her hair and then dropped them again, a look of revulsion on her face “—why would she do that? Why would anyone do that?”
It was a question she’d asked herself repeatedly. “I think she was unhappy,” Brenna said quietly. “Things weren’t great at home. And I think she genuinely liked your dad.” It had taken her years to see that possibility through the twisted complexity of Janet’s behavior.
“If you think that then you’ve never heard the stuff she says about him.”
“I think she was hurt that he didn’t share her feelings.” She saw Tyler look at her, saw the shock in his eyes.
“I offered to marry her.”
“But out of dut
y, not because you loved her. Because you thought it was the responsible thing to do. I think that was hard for her. She was lonely, scared and very unhappy.”
Jess made a disgusted sound. “She made you unhappy. I can’t believe she’s my mother. She’s a monster, and I hate her.” She started to cry, great tearing sobs that ripped through her chest. “I wish she’d never had me. I wish I’d never been born.”