Home > The Shape of My Heart (2B Trilogy #3)(62)

The Shape of My Heart (2B Trilogy #3)(62)
Author: Ann Aguirre

“Max, wait.”

But he wasn’t listening to me. When I didn’t immediately hand over the backpack, he brushed past me without a word and strode toward the foyer. I chased after him while my mother stood frozen in shock. After grabbing his jacket from the hall closet, he called the elevator without looking at me, and I had the awful feeling he blamed me for how this had gone down. As the doors opened, I tried to step on with him but he shook his head.

“You came to see your parents. So stay here and do that.”

“I wanted you to meet them.”

“But you didn’t tell me the whole story, did you? Wonder why not.” Max didn’t relent, so I tried to push closer and he actually walked me back, just before the doors shut in my face.

It felt like someone was squeezing my heart with a pair of pliers. The fact that something I did made Max feel this way? Unbearable. If I’d known it would turn out this way, I never would have brought him home. And in hindsight, I definitely should’ve told him the truth about my family’s status, but...it was pretty hard to reveal out of nowhere. How would that conversation even go? By the way, Max, my parents have a lot of money. So be prepared for them to act like assholes and live in a penthouse. Maybe if I’d said that, though, this wouldn’t have happened.

My mom’s heels clicked as she came toward me. “At least he isn’t stupid. That’s to his credit. But I can’t believe—”

“You acted that way to a guest I brought home,” I cut in furiously. “He wasn’t here because he’s hoping to get something from me. Max doesn’t even like me to pay for dinner when we go out. And he’s definitely not on drugs, Ma. That was me, remember? Because I couldn’t cope. I was weak and losing Eli was just too much.”

The elevator dinged, and I had some hope it was Max coming back up, regretting his quick exit, but the door opened to reveal my father instead. As usual, he was dressed in expensive slacks and a tailored button-up shirt. He’d lost even more hair from the last time I saw him, which he covered with a yarmulke at all times. Privately, I thought he did it out of vanity more than religious conviction, as my mother had more real faith than my dad and me put together. That was part of the reason why she cared so much about me marrying a nice Jewish boy, though some of that stemmed from snobbery.

Ma glanced between us, visibly troubled. “Do you think I can ever forget that? I—”

“Drove out the most important person in my life. You judged him in one look.” My knees went shaky as fury flooded me. “I’ve never been so ashamed to be part of this family.”

“What are you saying?” Dad demanded, stepping out of the elevator to stare at us. “Apologize to your mother right now.”

“I won’t. She gave permission for me to bring Max home, and then she treated him like garbage, made it crystal clear he wasn’t welcome.”

My dad hesitated. Typical. Apart from market fluctuations, he wasn’t a decisive man and usually found it easier to let my mom handle things. But if he took her side blindly... I bit my lip, so angry that I had to clench my hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

“Is that what happened?” he asked Ma.

“He looked a little...ethnic. So I inquired about his background,” she said. “Then I pulled Courtney aside to talk to her in private and he came to eavesdrop. Is it my fault he didn’t like what he heard?” She made a face. “That proves my point. Bad manners, bad upbringing.”

“Was it the one that came roaring out of the garage on a motorcycle?” Dad asked.

As soon as he said that, I knew how this would go. He wouldn’t take my side. To my parents, everything about Max represented “the bad element” and it didn’t matter how hard he’d worked to get where he was. If they ever saw his tattoos, their heads would probably explode. Which meant this argument was completely pointless. Resigning myself to that fact, I wheeled and stalked down the hall to get my bag. There was no point in being here when I was so upset.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ma called after me.

“Back to Michigan.”

“Out of the question. We’ve got parties to attend, I promised the Cohens that you’d come. Their son is home from Princeton. You remember Joseph, right? He—”

“I don’t care what promises you made,” I said, shouldering my backpack.

When I realized how this week would’ve gone, relief spilled through me. Imagining how shitty Max would’ve felt while my mother threw eligible Jewish guys at me prompted a shudder. Glad you had too much pride to stick around. I’m done, too.

“You can’t just storm out.” Dad stepped in front of me, boxing me in between my mom and the wall.

“Do you plan to physically restrain me and lock me up?” My expression had to be hard as I looked between them. “Because that’s the only way I’m staying.”

I took a step forward and his hands clamped on my shoulders. He wasn’t a big man, but he still had six inches on me, and my mother pushed closer. Her eyes shone with a frantic gleam but I couldn’t tell if she was about to cry or if it was something else. She put a hand on my cheek, and I started to get worried. They didn’t seem to realize how far across the line they were.

“I’m worried about you,” she said quietly.

“Because I’m dating someone you don’t approve of? Guess what, I’m also in a band.”

That shocked her into backing up a step. I took advantage of the opening to yank away from my dad and push through the gap to head for the elevator. My mother ran after me, pulling on my arm to hold me. My dad followed slower, his face serious and heavy with dismay. I could practically read their minds—I was either crazy or on drugs. Either way, I needed an intervention and to go back to rehab.

“You can’t leave,” my father said.

“Watch me.”

“Courtney, don’t do this,” my mother siad. “We’ll talk about it some more. Maybe if you tell me about him...” But I saw right through that tactic; she didn’t care to learn about Max. She just wanted time to nag and wear me down, list all the reasons why we made no sense as a couple.

“If you meant to get to know him, you would have treated him like a person who matters. You would’ve shown us both some respect.”

“What’s that boy done to earn it, other than seduce my daughter? I’m supposed to be glad that you brought home some—”

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