Page 28 of What If We Break?
I walked over to her, taking a seat by the kitchen island beside her. “Because the professors don’t like me, and I seriously can’t be bothered putting up with it anymore. I don’t care one bit about ballet, and it’s just too much unnecessary stress. So, I’ll drop out.”
“Honey, did you think this through?” she asked, taking both of my hands in her own.
“Yes, Mom, I thought it through.”
Emory never officially adopted me because I didn’t want it. I loved her dearly, and perhaps until I was ten, I was convinced I’d want her to adopt me, but Dad always said he wasn’t going to let that happen until I was at least thirteen and knew what that meant.
I was glad he said no every time I asked because once I truly grasped why Dad was hesitating, I no longer wanted iteither. I used to think it was cool that my aunt would be my mother, but the older I got, the more I understood that it was a bit unusual. Still, I didn’t care.
After I turned thirteen, I realized that Emory didn’t need to adopt me to be my mom. She’d been there for me from the second I was born, so it really didn’t matter that she didn’t give birth to me, or that we had no legal document saying she was my mother. She was my mom to me, even if I still called her by her first name sometimes.
It was a habit I just never got rid of, so now she was either Mom or Emory.
I didn’t know the woman who gave birth to me, though Dad sat me down once I turned eight and told me all I needed to know. Emory and Dad answered all of the questions I had about Millie, and to this day, I couldn’t fathom how a mother could do something as horrible as she did.
She faked her own death for five years just so she wouldn’t have to raise me.
Now, twenty years later, she was still trying to get in touch with me every now and then, but I refused. If she could give me up that easily, I didn’t want to meet this woman. Ever.
“What do you want to do instead?” Dad asked, continuing to stir the food so it wouldn’t burn. I loved his cooking, and I always thought it was funny that people out there were praying to eat his food one day while I had the privilege of just coming home and getting a plate handed to me by the chef himself.
I sighed. “Do you think St. Trewery would accept me if I applied for next year?”
Mom smiled, cocking her head slightly. “St. Trewery?”
“Yup.” It was the most obvious choice for me—sort of close by and still an elite university. Plus, Reece was there.
Dad narrowed his eyes at me. “Why?”
“Because…” Because it was where Reece went. Because, perhaps, if we were attending the same school again, all of our problems would vanish. Just… because. “I want to see where you went to college and learn all about your legacy.”
Reece told me there were tons of pictures of the hockey team from the year my dad graduated, mostly showing off Colin, Grey, and Aaron because they werehugenames in the NHL now. There were also pictures of my dad since he was on that team, and while he didn’t go pro, he was a famous chef now.
“His legacy.” Emory laughed. “The only place where you’ll findhis legacyis on the walls of the bathroom stalls.”
“So I’ll add a good thing or two.” I shrugged. “And maybe draw over everything my eyes shouldn’t have seen.”
“That’s wise,” Dad said, walking over to the cabinets behind him to take out a couple of plates. “My legacy will appreciate you erasing it.”
I grinned at him, but my smile faltered when I turned the topic back to my possible transfer. “So… you think they’ll accept me?”
“Oh, definitely,” Dad replied, setting the plates down on the counter. “If you ask Colin to talk to the chancellor, they might even let you transfer right away since it’s just the beginning of the semester.”
Colin was a huge sponsor, sending monthly checks to fund the hockey team because Reece once complained about the arena being too rusty.
They were still working on remodeling certain parts of the arena, but at least Colin knew his money was actually put into the hockey team, not something else.
12
REECE
Brooke and I had been fighting all morning.
Erik called her at three AM, saying she should get to the ice rink by five so they could continue with practice since she left early yesterday. She was injured, and could barely stand on both legs at the same time, but of course, she went anyway.
That guy was destroying her, and she refused to see it.
Okay, well, she did see it, but she insisted that she had to stick out the season with him. Apparently, she wouldn’t continue the contract with him for next season,ifher body made it until next season. The way Erik was pushing her, injuring her, there was no way she’d be able to continue to skate after this season.
