chapter 31: what she walks into

bronte’s

The hours before Mom came home moved too slowly and too fast at the same time.

I tried to keep busy. I cleaned the kitchen. I folded laundry that didn’t need folding. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the wall.

Nothing helped. Every sound in the house felt louder than it should have.

Every time a car passed outside, my stomach tightened.

Rufus stayed close without crowding me. He worked in his office with the door open, glancing up whenever I walked past.

Once he called me in and pulled me into his lap, kissing me slowly while his hand slid under my shirt. We didn’t go further.

He just held me there for a while, forehead against mine, like he was steadying himself as much as me.

“Whatever happens when she walks in,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to face it alone.”

I wanted to believe that. Part of me did. Another part of me kept hearing Jake’s messages and Chloe’s warnings and the way Mom’s voice had sounded the last time she left.

Around six thirty, headlights swept across the front windows.

I stood in the hallway as the key turned in the lock. Rufus came out of his office and stopped a few feet behind me. The door opened.

Mom stepped inside carrying her small overnight bag. She looked tired, but her eyes were clear and steady in a way that made my chest tighten.

She set the bag down, closed the door, and looked at both of us.

“I’m home,” she said simply.

No one spoke for a moment.

She walked into the living room and sat on the couch, folding her hands in her lap. Rufus followed and took the chair across from her again.

I stayed standing near the doorway, the same place I’d stood last time, like my body already knew the shape of this conversation.

Mom looked at me first.

“I’ve had time to think,” she said. “I’ve spoken to Jake. I’ve looked at everything he sent.

And I’ve decided I don’t want half answers anymore.” Her voice stayed calm, but there was steel under it. “Bronte, I need the truth. Has there been anything inappropriate between you and Rufus?”

The question landed heavier than before.

I felt Rufus’s presence behind me like a second heartbeat. I felt the necklace against my throat.

I felt every night, every rule, every time I had chosen him over the person who raised me.

My mouth opened.

No sound came out at first.

Mom’s eyes stayed on mine, waiting.

And in that stretched silence, I realized something that made my hands go cold

Whatever I said next would decide the rest of my life.

The silence in the living room stretched until it hurt.

Mom sat on the couch, waiting.

Rufus was still and watchful in the chair across from her.

I stood in the same place I always seemed to stand during these conversations half in the room, half ready to run.

“Bronte,” Mom said again, quieter this time. “I need the truth.”

My throat felt tight. I could feel Rufus’s eyes on me. I could feel the weight of every night I had spent in his bed, every time I had called him Daddy, every time I had chosen the heat of him over the life I was supposed to want.

I opened my mouth.

“Yes,” I said.

The word came out smaller than I expected, but it was clear.

Mom’s face didn’t change right away. She just stared at me like she was trying to make sure she had heard correctly.

“Yes?” she repeated.

I forced myself to keep looking at her. “Something has been going on. Between me and Rufus.”

The air left the room.

Mom’s hands tightened in her lap. For a second she looked like she might be sick. Then her eyes moved to Rufus, cold and sharp.

“How long?” she asked him.

Rufus didn’t flinch. “Long enough.”

“You piece of shit,” she whispered. Her voice was shaking now. “She’s my daughter. She was twenty-three. You were supposed to be her stepfather.”

“I know exactly what I am,” Rufus said calmly.

Mom stood up so fast the couch shifted behind her. She pointed at him, then at me. “Get out. Both of you. I can’t look at either of you right now.”

“Catherine” Rufus started.

“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Don’t you dare speak to me like this is something we can discuss calmly.

You preyed on her. And you” she turned to me, eyes full of pain and anger, “you let him. You lied to my face over and over.”

Tears burned in my eyes. “Mom, I’m sorry”

“I don’t want to hear it tonight.” Her voice cracked. “I need you both out of this house. Now.”

Rufus stood slowly. He looked at me once, then nodded toward the stairs. “Go pack a bag.”

I hesitated. Mom’s face was twisted with something that looked too close to heartbreak.

Part of me wanted to drop to my knees and beg her to understand. The bigger part of me already knew she wouldn’t not tonight.

I went upstairs on unsteady legs and threw clothes into a bag without really seeing them.

When I came back down, Rufus was waiting by the door with his own small bag and car keys.

Mom stood in the middle of the living room with her arms wrapped around herself, staring at the floor.

She didn’t look at me as I passed her.

Rufus opened the front door.

The night air felt cold against my face. I stepped outside, and he followed, closing the door quietly behind us.

We didn’t speak as we got into his car.

He started the engine and pulled away from the house I had grown up in. In the side mirror I watched the front porch light get smaller until it disappeared.

Only then did Rufus reach over and take my hand.

“You told the truth,” he said.

I stared out the window, tears sliding down my face.

“I just lost her,” I whispered.

His grip tightened around my fingers.

“You still have me.”

I didn’t know if that was comfort or a sentence.

All I knew was that the life I had been carefully balancing had finally collapsed and there was no going back.