The One Who Got Away is Back

Memory 1 ♡ Oops They Did It Again

The silence prolonged by quite a lot more than I expected, so I looked up and found their attention trained on me.

"Okay," I said with the calm of a child who'd heard her parents say the same thing for roughly ten years. The first time had been devastating, I'd locked myself up in my room and refused sunshine and food until they told me it wasn't true. That had been a mistake from my side because though they'd obliged, the threat loomed over me ever since. Every time they brought the possibility up, I'd raise a stink until eventually they just locked me away at boarding school and went on with their lives.

I just hadn't realized yet that a divorce paper wasn't the only path to a broken home.

Cue for the server to return and politely ask for our orders. Father got the poached eggs. Mother got her vegan salad, dressing on the side. She'd never pour it on top, and I always wondered just how soulless someone had to be to eat raw vegetables with no zing. I enjoyed the laser beams that came out of her eyes once I placed my order, plus a large cappuccino.

"You were saying?" I prompted them once the three of us were alone at our table again.

Father lifted his nose in the air and I braced myself. "Your mother's latest indiscretion has cost me a fortune, which is why I've decided to put an end to this."

A delicate little snort came from her side.

"Darling, are you growing poor?"

"With you on the payroll, absolutely," he retorted, sneer and all. "I have called upon Schmitt to make the arrangements."

Oh, this was serious. Maybe this, the 100th time, was the charm. It wasn't often that father involved his attorney.

Mother's blue eyes twinkled as though she'd just heard the single most amusing thing on this planet. "Isn't that fitting? You make this situation sound like a funeral and I suppose it is true. After all, your libido died two decades ago."

I groaned. "Gross, mother."

They ignored me, as they were used to doing.

He placed his elbows on the table, a major no-no, and leaned forward. "Prepare yourself, Grace. Because after we're done you will never get one more penny out of me in your miserable existence."

"Bring it on, darling. You'll be hearing from my attorney as well."

I cringed and looked around. When was the food going to arrive?

"You mean your latest lover?" father asked, picking up his cup of tea and sampling it once more like they were discussing the weather. "I suppose he will take the case pro bono. How else can you afford his services without spreading your legs for him?"

I gasped.

That kind of low insult was new.

She threw her napkin on the table and leapt to her feet so fast that her chair toppled over. Now we had a captive audience. I regretted wearing my favorite color because that just guaranteed people's attention to our table.

"Mother, calm down," I said, realizing a second too late that it just made things worse.

"Calm down?" She trembled from top to bottom as she pointed a finger at my dad's serene expression. "I will not stand by this kettle calling the pot black! As if he doesn't insert himself in between the legs of women younger than his daughter."

My jaw dropped.

What?

Also, wasn't his libido supposedly dead? I felt a headache coming at just trying to keep up with this conversation. Color rose up father's face at the same rate as it probably drained from mine.