Page 99 of Golden Days

The rest of the pro-am is surprisingly uneventful. I expected more pomp and circumstance, but the novelty of it dies off by the second day when once again, Levi and I lead in score. It’s not even a competition, actually, but it is for charity, so I can’t complain.

By the third day, I’m bored. The amateurs are no longer needed, and the professionals are scheduled to play a game of their own. I partake in the mixer they set up for us and mingle with some minor celebrities, which is pretty fancy in and of itself, but again, I’m bored.

By the fourth day, I’m ecstatic because we finally get to go home. As much as I enjoyed the five-star penthouse Levi’s assistant booked for us, I miss the cats, I miss Levi’s bed. I miss home.

The realization that I’ve started to think of his house as home hits me right as we’re unpacking our suitcases, moving in a rhythm that feels familiar. Comfortable. Have I ever felt this level of peace before in a romantic relationship?

No, because you know deep down that this is different.

This is it.

This is real love.

Trying not to panic over my internal thoughts, I put my suitcase in the back of the closet and tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m gonna go on a walk,” I say, grabbing a pair of tennis shoes.

“Want me to go with you?” Levi asks, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“No, take a nap. You’re tired,” I say, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

The whole time, my stomach is in all sorts of knots.

Do I tell him he’s the greatest thing that ever happened to me?

“Don’t be gone too long,” he smiles, pulling me back in for a kiss, his thumb caressing my jaw.

When I get back home an hour later, my mind clearer than ever, I get a call from my mom. My fingers slip off the doorknob and I take a startled step back. Despite telling my dad she’s trying to talk to me, Mom rarely actually calls me.

Unless it’s about dad.

With shaky fingers, I answer. “Hello?”

“Hazel, how are you?” Her curt and sharp voice comes through the phone.

I frown, lip trembling at the thought of something bad happening to Dad. Did he have another heart attack?

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is he okay?”

“What are you talking about?” Mom asks, voice laced with confusion. Then, more tightly, she says, “It’s not about your father.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and place a hand over my heart. Thank god. “What is it, then?”

“You really have become an ungrateful little—” She huffs, breathing sharply. “I wanted to say congratulations.”

“For what?” It’s my turn to be confused.

If she’s not calling about Dad, what the hell does she want from me? She knows very well I have nothing to say to her.

“For locking down that millionaire boyfriend. My, I always knew you were motivated,” she says.

My blood boils. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to scream and rage, but—haven’t I known this is who she always was?

She only cares about her family when it’s convenient for her. The only reason she’s still around and taking care of my dad is because she has at least a little bit of a conscience and wouldn’t abandon him while he’s sick.

Besides, she’s only able to afford the things she does because I send her my hard-earned money every month.

I clear my throat and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” How does she even know about Levi?

“Please, it’s all over the tabloids. There’s a picture of you two, looking cozy outside a sushi restaurant.”