Sweaty Summer Nights - Page 8

“Yeah, you want me to marry Malcom. I know, Mom.”

I just want to get out of this conversation, whatever it takes.

“Malcom is a nice young man.” She smiles. “And even if we hadn’t found him for you, that one today…he’s not…one of us. You understand what I mean?”

There it is again. That toxic arrogance displayed by Malcom earlier that my mother seems fully capable of as well. I can feel it sinking into my pores the longer I stand here, literally giving me the shivers and making me want to go dive into the lake to rinse it off me.

I open my mouth, ready to say something back, but then quickly realize how futile it would be. I’m not changing any of these people—at least not with some snide remark or by trying to win an argument.

So instead, I purse my lips and nod.

“Okay, Mom,” I say.

This seems to please her as she pats me on the shoulder like a proud owner might do to their dog who just learned a new trick and gently turns me toward the house. We walk up together, my eyes on the ground as I place one foot in front of the other, my thoughts fixed on tonight when I can escape all this and find refuge in the arms of the man I now know I am absolutely falling for.

Christian.

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