A Perfect Ten (Forbidden Men #5)(72)

He broke off when he saw them returning.

I glanced over too, prepared to ask if everything was better. But something had changed in the time since Brenda and Phil had left the table to dry Phil. They looked stoic, almost sympathetic.

“Shit,” Oren muttered beside me. “Here it comes.”

I glanced at him, but he was too busy scowling at his parents.

They stopped in front of our table, but instead of sitting, they remained standing, obviously ready to make some kind of big united-front announcement.

Oren tensed beside me, so I slid my hand under the table until it found his. He had balled his fingers into a tight fist, but he opened them for me so he could squeeze his around mine.

“Oren,” his mother started. “I understand how much you don’t like talking about her, but we thought you should know... Your father and I petitioned the town to set up a memorial for Zoey in the city park, and they’ve agreed. We want you to come to the grand opening next weekend.”





I have no idea why hearing my parents talk about her always made me physically ill. But my stomach revolted, bile rose in my throat, and my vision went wonky.

“Really?” Surging to my feet, I glared across the table. “You’re going to bring this shit up in front of my new girlfriend?” And I’d been so sure Caroline would be the perfect buffer to keep family drama out of the conversation.

Mom glanced at Caroline, her eyes wide with alarm before she turned back to me. “This shit is your sister’s legacy. Don’t you want to honor her?”

The swirling in my gut turned into little needles of agony. I doubled slightly, setting my hands on my hips in an attempt to hide how much I hurt. “I don’t even want to think about it,” I hissed.

Mom sighed out a sad breath as Dad grasped her hand. I hated distressing them, but f*ck, why did they always have to force this on me?

“Sweetheart, this is not healthy. Pretending she never existed isn’t going to stop it from hurting.”

Yeah, well, I had to disagree. It’d worked pretty damn well for me for the past four years.

When my dad tried to say something next, I held up a hand and snapped, “Don’t.”

“We think you need help.” Mom rushed out the words, making me jerk in shock.

“What?”

“Our biggest fear was that you’d never be able to move on from what happened. And for a while, we thought you had. But clearly, you’re just repressing it. You haven’t even attempted the stages of grief to work through this, and it’s going to end up coming back and biting you someday when you least expect it.”

“I’m fine,” I exploded. “Please excuse me if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life purposely being all depressed over...over someone who’s never coming back.”

Dad shook his head. “You still can’t even say her name out loud, can you?”

I shot Caroline a sharp warning glance, telling her to keep her trap shut. Her eyes were wide as she took in my dysfunctional family scene. Fuck, she was going to have so many questions after this. What had I been thinking to bring her along?

“Mrs. Tenning,” she said, turning to my mom. “I don’t know if this helps ease your mind any, but Oren’s been visiting a therapist.”

Say what? I shot her a startled glance, but she didn’t even look my way. Focusing on my parents, she clasped her hands to her chest with a genuine show of compassion. “I mean, I know it hasn’t done much for him yet, but he’s actually gone to a few sessions, which should mean something, right? He’s admitted he needs help. Isn’t that what they say is half the battle?”

My mother’s eyes glistened with tears as she turned to me. “Are you really? Oh, Oren. That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

As she hugged me, I met Caroline’s gaze, widening my gaze to silently ask what the f*ck she thought she was doing.

“Thanks,” I muttered to my mom as I pushed out of her warm embrace that I actually kind of missed feeling. “It’s my fault she’s dead, but you’re so proud of me. That makes everything so much f*cking better.”

Unable to handle a second more of this shit, I spun away from them and marched off. My head raced in a million different directions as I stormed blindly from the restaurant. I automatically started for my truck, but visions of my sister’s bloody face covered in glass as she lay slumped against a steering wheel had me stopping in my tracks. Her scream as she shouted for me to help her echoed through my head.

I was in no shape to drive, so I pivoted right and started down the quiet sidewalk, dodging out of the way of the overhead street lamps so I could keep to the shadows.

I didn’t get very far before a breathless Caroline caught up with me, jogging to reach my side. She panted as she tried to keep pace. “You weren’t planning on deserting me here, were you? With your parents...whom I just met.”

I sent her a quick, hard glare. “You want to come with me, you better keep up.”

“Oh, don’t think I can’t.” She had to half jog, but she managed to keep up, and she didn’t complain.

In fact, the infuriating woman stayed absolutely, blessedly silent...which only pissed me off more. Why wasn’t she yelling at me, telling me off for how rude I’d been to my “amazing” parents, demanding to know what that had been about back there? I was in the mood to fight, but how the hell was I was supposed to pick a fight with such a supportive, amazing girlfriend?