She saw Asher close his eyes briefly in obviously peaking frustration. Laila swore she could hear all the crystal in the room giving off an eerie, barely audible ring.
“Your parents wouldn’t approve of my son?” Clark abruptly repeated loudly.
“Clark—” Madeline muttered, sounding alarmed at his tone of voice.
“I don’t believe this,” Asher said, his mouth slanting in fury. He tossed down his napkin. “You don’t approve of me. Why should Laila’s parents?”
Clark looked positively apoplectic. Laila gave Asher a wild, worried glance. What if Asher’s father had a heart attack, right there at the head of the table? Asher’s father abruptly stood from the table, as well.
“Asher, I demand to talk to you. Right now. In my study,” he said, pointing toward a door.
“Clark, please,” Madeline implored.
Asher laughed. Laila couldn’t believe it, given the off-the-charts tension level in the room. He pushed back his chair and stood.
“It’s not easy to hear, is it, Dad? That someone else could possibly be on the judging end of things. It’s usually Mom and you who are sitting in the judges’ chairs, isn’t it?”
“Asher, please. Stop this,” Madeline said, her muted voice shaking.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Asher asked his mother. “Do you know why I brought Laila here today?”
“Because you wanted to hurt us, as usual?” Clark bit out between a tight jaw.
“I brought her because you’re my only family, despite the fact that you constantly wish I were something different. Still, I was stupid enough to believe you’d want to know someone who is important to me. I’m used to you disapproving of me, but I mean . . . Look at her,” Asher challenged hotly, putting out his hand in Laila’s direction. Laila sank in her chair. “How could a beautiful, talented, loving woman like Laila possibly hurt you? How could me living my own life and having my own career hurt you? You’re hurting yourselves,” he shouted, walking around the table with a long-legged, rapid stride. He reached for Laila’s hand. She stood awkwardly. “And I’m so fucking sick of it,” he declared. Laila’s heart felt like it froze in her chest when she saw his expression: so cold. So hurt.
“Please don’t contact me anymore,” Asher said as they began to walk away.
“Asher,” both his mother and Laila said plaintively at once. Their voices didn’t seem to penetrate. Laila looked over her shoulder as Asher led her toward the door. Her stare briefly met Madeline’s. For a fraction of a second, she thought she saw a plea in the older woman’s eyes. But there was nothing Laila could do or say.
“I’ll be out of the condo by this Wednesday. You can do whatever you want with it. I won’t be coming back. Don’t try to call. It’ll just lead to disappointment. For all of us,” he said, before he pulled Laila alongside him out the door.
• • •
“You never even told them you won the Pulitzer Prize,” she said twenty minutes later. She felt numb, despite the warm, brilliantly sunny day. Traffic was lighter than it had been earlier. Plus Asher was driving extra fast in his agitation. They flew down Lake Shore Drive, not far from Asher’s condominium.
She saw him grimace and his hands tighten on the wheel. “They wouldn’t have cared, Laila. Don’t you get that? Just because your parents think the sun rises and sets on you doesn’t mean mine do.”
“They love you, Asher. I know they do.”
“How can you defend them?” he asked in a burst of anger as he took the Fullerton exit. “Look at how they treated you! It was unforgivable.”
“I wouldn’t say that. It was wrong, yes. They were rude. They don’t know how to act around someone different than them.”
“How can you just let people walk all over you like that?”
She gasped at his harshness.
“You’re always doing that, apologizing in some way for who you are. What you are. Whom you want,” he continued bitterly. “You put up the curtain when you perform, like you need to dim the reality of you. You’re always caving. You’re always bending over backward to please everyone. Instead, you should be showing the world how wonderful you are, and telling anyone who doesn’t like what they see to go fuck themselves.”
Electric indignation sizzled through her.
“Like you tell your parents to fuck themselves constantly, because they don’t approve of you? That’s not how I do things, Asher.”
He made a sarcastic “well, that’s obvious” sound and gesture that mounted her fury and helplessness.
“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, angered, but also bewildered and hurt by his bitter outburst.
“I don’t know,” he said irritably, frowning furiously.