Page 169 of Dream Chaser

“I need to go home,” she said. “You’re not going to introduce us?”

She studied Ale with what looked like contempt. Of course. Only Preston got her unconditional adoration.

“Alejandro,” he said.

She pursed her lips. “Mrs. Lockhart.”

“Melissa,” I added.

“Nice to meet you,” Alejandro said.

It wasn’t. How could it be with the look she was giving him?

When she said nothing, he nodded toward the sliding door. “Let’s take you home, Melissa.”

We followed him to the car. “So, you called me because you needed a ride to Millford.”

“I called you because you’re my daughter. That’s who mothers call when they need something.”

“You should’ve called Preston.” For once, she kept quiet, and I knew why. He’d never stop what he was doing to help someone else. He never had.

“Ah, wait,” I said. “He didn’t want to come. Too tired after working all day. Unlike Nova who doesn’t have a job or a life of her own.”

Alejandro unlocked his car. I slid into the passenger seat; my mother made herself comfortable in the back.

After a drive so thick with tension I struggled to breathe, he parked in my mother’s driveway.

“I need to check my email, amor,” he said. “But call me if you need me.”

He must’ve sensed my mother and I needed to talk, or rather, I needed that conversation.

My mother walked to the house without acknowledging him. It felt like a slap. She clearly reserved her manners only for Preston and Donna.

Inside, she strolled to the living room and sat on the couch, her back ramrod straight.

I lowered myself onto the armchair Dad used to sit in, as if that’d make this situation better. “Funny you called only when you needed something from me.”

Mom twirled her wedding band around her finger. “Who else was I going to call? Donna won’t talk to me. She said it’s my fault I couldn’t persuade you to save your marriage. I took a cab to the ER, but he charged me too much. He must think widows are rolling in money.”

“He must’ve thought you had a job,” I said.

She tipped her chin up. “At fifty-two?”

“Yeah.” I ran my fingers over the armchair’s worn upholstery. “You’ve got another thirteen years before you’re even retirement age. You could find a job, make friends, get a hobby. What are you planning to do when you run out of Dad’s money?”

It wasn’t a lot. Not nearly enough to live off for the rest of her life.

She clutched her chain, blinking. “A job? I have a daughter. It’s her obligation to take care of her mother and to repay her for everything she poured into her.”

Hurt lanced through my chest. So, that’s what I was—key to her financial security. Someone who owed her.

“You should live in Millford,” she said. “Close to me. I’m not getting any younger. Look how many health issues I have. But of course, someone as selfish as you would never. You left and didn’t think how that would make your mother feel.”

“I left an abusive relationship that was slowly killing me with no help from anyone,” I said through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare make me feel guilty now. You don’t know what I went through, and when I tried to tell you, you wouldn’t listen.”

She snorted. “Abuse? You just needed an excuse to run to Emerport. You always wanted to be away from me.”

I unlocked my phone with shaky fingers, found the picture of my bruised face, and tossed the cell onto the couch.