But I won’t—I fucking won’t—stand for her whispering awful and unfounded suspicions in Tucker’s ear.
I can survive on my own. I don’t need Tucker—I want him. I want him so much that I’d give everything up to have him and Jamie.
With as much dignity as I have, I face Mrs. Tucker.
“I have so much respect for you. I’ve only been doing this mothering sh—stuff for four months and I’ve screwed up probably a thousand times. It’s hard, and I have Tucker, your amazing son, helping me every inch of the way. I can’t imagine how you did it on your own. But I’m not going to let you insult everything I do in this place. This is my home. Yes, I’m not perfect, but I’m trying. I love Jamie and I love Tucker and if, at any time, Harvard or work or anything threatens their happiness in any way, I would give it all up in a minute.”
Her brown eyes widen.
But I’m not done. “He and Jamie are the most important things in my life,” I say fiercely. “And everything I’m doing right now is to make sure that I keep them in my life, to make sure I can contribute to our family and give Jamie a better childhood than the one I had to deal with, even if it means studying with a man. Who, by the way, is happily married and has two kids of his own.”
There’s a rustling noise behind Mrs. Tucker, and the blot behind her head slowly comes into focus. It takes a second for me to realize it’s Tucker. He’s standing at the front door.
He leans an arm on the doorframe, a smile slanting across his face.
“You love me, huh?”
39
Tucker
Sabrina looks like she wants to crawl under a rock. Or maybe jump out one of the many windows in our apartment. I know she doesn’t like being put on the spot, and I probably wouldn’t even blame her if she decided to flee.
But whatever my mother said to her before I came home—and I intend on finding out every last word that was spoken—has clearly given Sabrina a dose of courage. She frowns briefly at my mom, then turns to me and meets my gaze straight on.
“I love you,” she confirms.
I take a step closer. “Since when?”
“Since fucking always.” When my mom winces, Sabrina gives her a sheepish look. “Sorry. Tuck and I are still going through a language transition. We don’t always remember to say ‘fudge’ and ‘sugar,’ okay?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Are you going to lecture me about that too?”
Mom’s lips twitch as if she’s trying not to laugh. “No,” she says faintly. “I’m not. In fact…” She makes a big show of slipping into her winter boots and coat. “I think I’ll take a walk around the block. I love looking at all the snow.”
“Bullshit,” I cough into my hands. My mom despises winter and we both know it.
She glares at me on her way to the door. “Please speed up this language transition, John.” And then she’s gone, and Sabrina and I exchange grins.
The humor doesn’t last long, though.
“I’m sorry,” Sabrina tells me.
“For what?” I bridge the distance between us and plant both hands on her slender hips.
“I didn’t mean to be rude to your mother. It’s just…she said some…hurtful things.” She holds up her hand when she sees my dark expression. “They’re not worth repeating, and I have a feeling she won’t say that kind of stuff anymore.”
I nod slowly. “You mean now that she knows you love me?”
“Yeah.”
I search her beautiful face for a moment before smiling again. “Since fucking always, huh?”
“Well, maybe not always,” she concedes. “I won’t lie, Tuck. That connection you talked about when we first met? About our eyes meeting across the room and how you felt something in that moment?” Sabrina sighs. “All I felt was lust that night.”
“I know.”
“But it’s not just lust anymore. It hasn’t been about that for a long time.”
“When?” I can’t help but tease. “When did you figure out you’re madly in love with me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe on that ridiculous double date? Maybe when you took care of me when I thought I was sick? When you got me the briefcase? When you punched out Ray in my honor?” Each word is lined with wonder. “I don’t know exactly when, Tuck, but I know I love you.”
A lump rises in my throat. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”