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“Right this second? I’m a little busy at the moment.” Grayson proves my point when he skims his fingers across my clit. I have to bite my lip not to make a sound, but I spread my legs a bit to give him more room.

“Yes, right this second. I wouldn’t call you if it weren’t important.”

“What’s going on? Maybe I can help you over the phone.”

“You know, I don’t know where I went wrong with you. You were so helpful when you were little, and now it’s as if you couldn’t care less about me. I wish I knew what I did to make you hate me this much.”

I close my eyes in frustration, and Gray’s touch turns comforting as he runs his hands along my hips. “I don’t hate you, Mom. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

She hesitates. “It’s embarrassing, Kylie. I can’t call your brother for this, so I need you to come over.”

Opening my eyes, I look at Grayson. He shrugs, an expression of acceptance and understanding on his face. There’s also a hint of disappointment he tries hard to conceal from me, but I see it anyway.

Mom’s bullshit is officially coming between us, and I can’t allow that to happen. This is going to be the last time, even if I have to cut her off completely. I don’t want to do that, especially when I’m only a couple of weeks from giving birth, but I don’t want this to hurt my relationship with Grayson any more than it already has.

“Okay. I’ll be over in a few minutes.” Dropping my phone on the table with a clatter, I groan into my hands. “Why does she have to be like this? And why can’t I say no to her?”

Grayson leans over to help me put my leggings and underwear back on. “Because she’s your mom and you love her.”

Determination fills me. “I’m going to set some boundaries with her when I get over there. I can’t keep doing this, and it’s only going to get worse when Peanut arrives. I’ve been too scared of her cutting off contact that I haven’t yet, but maybe that would be for the best.”

Cupping my cheeks, Grayson drops his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry, Ladybug. You know I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but if she’s willing to cut off contact because you set firm boundaries, then that’s a sign those boundaries are exactly what you need.”

“You’re right. It’s just a bitter pill to swallow. I’ll broach the topic with her when I’m over there. Regardless of how she responds, I need to be able to share my feelings with her.”

Grayson kisses me. “Good luck. And text me if you need me.”

* * *

I take a deep breath and head into my mom’s house. For years I held my tongue around her because I didn’t want to rock the boat. She was so consumed by grief that I felt as if I wasn’t allowed to set boundaries around how she talked to me. I’m finally realizing that even at the height of her grief, she shouldn’t have treated me the way she did—and still does to this day.

Grayson is one more comment away from tearing her a new one for how she talks to me sometimes. His defense of me has also helped me believe that I deserve better from my mom. Chris always told me I was being too sensitive, and I needed to let it go.

This time, I’m finally going to stand up for myself, and while I need to do this alone, I wish Gray was with me.

I’m a little shocked he didn’t push harder to come, but I think he knows she and I need to have this out once and for all. If he’s here with me, it’ll only make her angrier about the direction my life has taken.

The thing I struggle with the most is that I’m happier than I’ve ever been. How can she ignore that? How can she constantly shit on the direction my life has taken despite it being the best thing that’s ever happened to me? Are society’s standards that ingrained in her that she would rather me be miserable and married than divorced and happy?

Sadly, I think the answer is yes.

Stepping through the mudroom, I’m immediately hit with the smell of my childhood, which means she’s been stress-cleaning. She only ever used bleach when she was avoiding her emotions. Usually when my dad had to talk to her about whatever judgmental thing she’d said and she knew he was right.

“Mom?”

“Kylie. It took you long enough to get here.”

I ignore that ridiculous statement. “What was so important that you needed me to come right away?”

“Come here, please.”

I dutifully follow her through the house in the direction of the formal sitting room. It’s one of those rooms Jacob and I were never allowed to go in growing up because it was only for special guests and had all the expensive decorations she was terrified we’d break.

She opens one of the French doors, encouraging me to go ahead of her, and when I finally see why she wanted me to go in first, I stop dead in my tracks.

The door snicking shut snaps me out of my shock, and I realize she’s closed me in this room with the one person I never wanted to see again. I turn to leave, refusing to believe she’d actually do this, but the door doesn’t budge. This cannot be happening right now.

“Mom. Open this door right now. Do not do this to me!” I shake the handle, trying to get it open, but she must have locked it somehow. The betrayal is like a hot knife straight into my heart. I never thought she’d stoop this low.