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Ten years. I was gone for ten years and barely spoke to anyone in my family. Ten years because I couldn’t face my mom after what happened. Ten years of guilt and sleepless nights. Ten years of debating if I should’ve done things differently. Ten years of feeling alienated and angry. Ten years of not having a relationship with my mother.

Next to me, I sense Robin’s unease about the current situation that she doesn’t understand. She turns toward me and puts an arm around my waist.

“You thought you could threaten me to get what you wanted?” My father’s face is filled with pure disgust, but I’m too drained to answer.

My mother’s confession has left me empty and with no fight left in my bones.

“You thought,” my father hisses, his voice sharp like a dagger, slicing my chest open with every word, “that you could waltz in here like the entitled and selfish prick that you are and demand I stop one of my developments? You’re still the disappointing and immature delinquent that you were ten years ago. You’re a disappointment. Absolutely worthless, and you better stay⁠—”

“Shut up,” Robin growls next to me, snapping me out of my temporary stupor.

My dad’s head whips toward her, a hint of shock written across his face.

“Don’t talk to him that way. You clearly don’t know him at all. You haven’t seen your son in ten years but pretend to know who he is? What does it say about you as a father that he’s been gone for a decade? I think maybe you need to look inward.” Her voice grows louder with every word, and my dad looks around to see if anyone is listening.

Curious guests start to turn into our direction, clearly eager to hear what the noise is all about. My dad desperately tries to shush her, but her voice just rises more.

“Hayden is kind, smart, funny, and caring. He literally goes above and beyond to help others. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, and it sickens me that you can’t see it. You don’t even deserve to have a son like him. He’s too good for you. I don’t know how someone as horrible as you made someone as amazing as him.”

My dad is speechless. I don’t think anyone has ever talked to him this way.

Meanwhile, I stare at Robin in wonder, my chest full of emotions I cannot explain. I’m still shocked by my mom’s confession, my feet frozen to the ground, my mouth incapable to make a sound after what just happened.

“Come on,” Robin says breathlessly, grabbing my hand tightly and pulling me away, her head held high as she navigates us through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances from the onlookers that were lucky enough to witness the scene.

The crowd starts to thin as we approach the exit, and I catch up with her quick stride and fall into step beside her. We make our way through the double doors and down the marble stairs of the Weatherford, and with every step, reality comes crashing down on me. The temporary fog slowly lifts, and I regain control of my own body and mind.

We make it outside. The sky is a pretty shade of purple, and lanterns line the path to the street in a soft glow. The warm evening air and the soothing sound of crickets chirping around us are relaxing enough to expel the rest of the anxiety from my body.

Robin leads me down the path, now peacefully empty with all the guests already inside the ballroom. We’re halfway to the street when I gently tug her arm and bring us to a stop. She turns to face me, her beautiful face apologetic, a wild look still lingering behind her eyes.

“Hayden, I’m so sorry. I––”

And then I kiss her.

Chapter 23

Robin

Hayden is kissing me.

I’m startled for a second when his lips crash down on mine, his hands cupping my face. The intensity behind the kiss almost knocks the air out of my lungs.

When my brain catches up, I grab him by the shirt and pull him closer to me. His mouth is soft against mine, and I can taste the champagne lingering on his breath.

When his tongue intertwines with mine, he lets out a husky groan, and my knees almost buckle at the sound. I drive the kiss deeper, needing more of him, desperate for the way he claims my mouth.

All the tension in my body evaporates, and there is nothing left but me and Hayden. And it feels so right.

He pulls on my bottom lip with his teeth, and I whimper into his mouth. He grips me by the waist with both hands and pulls me flush to his chest, my arms snaking up his shoulders and wrapping around his neck.

He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before, my heart pounding a million miles per hour.

When we pull apart, we stare at each other for a moment, lost in each other’s gazes until I start to giggle. For a second he seems surprised, but then he follows suit, laughing and gasping for air. I feel slightly hysterical.

When we both calm down, he pulls me close again and places his forehead against mine. “Thank you,” he says, vulnerability in his tone. “I don’t think anyone has ever stood up for me like that.”

My heart flutters, and I briefly close my eyes. “I meant every word.”