Meet Me Halfway(55)

“And why is that?” The question rumbled out of the broad chest next to me, and my head turned his way, but he wasn’t looking at me. If Tristan had wanted his undivided attention, she now had it.

She batted her lashes again, and I imagined if they were any longer, she’d fly away. Turning around more fully, she had the audacity to rest a hand on his knee. Her very much married hand.

“I meant it as a compliment. You don’t seem like the kind of man who would have had a child with a child.” She laughed again, “But that’s what I get for assuming.”

The underhanded insult shot through me, and I set down my Styrofoam cup to keep from squeezing it in half and throwing it at her smiling face.

I waited to hear his reply, hear him knock her down a peg or give her his unimpressed expression. But he didn’t. He just stared at her hand on his knee, the muscles along his jaw flexing.

The cold, plummeting feeling in my stomach definitely wasn’t disappointment or embarrassment. Nope. I was probably just coming down with a sudden case of the flu.

Pushing down the feeling—that I was leaving unnamed—I pasted my very best customer service smile on my face, lining it with a hint of disdain.

“Thank you, Tristan.”

She glanced over, eyebrows raised, and her hand still resting on Garrett’s knee. “For what?”

“For always reminding me how young I was when I gave birth. You’d think I could remember since I was the one who laid there for fourteen hours and shoved his body out of my vag, but it’s so difficult sometimes. Probably because my brain hadn’t fully developed yet. So, thank you.”

I kicked my smile up a notch, sweetness oozing from the corners. I hoped she fucking drowned in it.

She sneered, finally pulling her hand off my neighbor to point a long, manicured nail at me. “I’d say I’m surprised by your crass, juvenile comment, but lying is a sin.”

“Ah, yes, we wouldn’t want Jesus thinking you were anything but a stand-up Christian woman.”

Her jaw jutted out, and she huffed loudly. “Not all of us are as comfortable spitting on our values and beliefs as you are, Madison.”

I clenched my fists to keep them from visibly shaking. It was physically painful to keep my face neutral when my heart was racing, and my neck and ears were reddening.

“Turn around and watch your son, Tristan. I’d like to watch mine play since, as you so graciously pointed out, I already missed the first half.”

Contempt filled her eyes, her lips curling and twisting to form the poison I could sense was about to spew. “Your son wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the tuition payments parents like us pay.” She gestured to herself and the moms on either side of her.

I could ignore a lot, but implying my son didn’t have a right to his education was a hard ass line. Forcing my jaw to unclench enough to speak, I said, “I pay the same tuition you do.”

Her bell-chimed laugh burst out, but it was tainted, no longer carefree. “Please. You receive financial aid, and everyone here knows it. How do you think your son was able to join the team? Did you think it was free?”

My face fell, and she scoffed. “People like you love working the system, and rather than be grateful, you turn your greedy rear around and butt into our social circle like you belong here.”

Her voice had picked up in volume, and the people sitting around us were now watching, salivating over my humiliation like vultures circling a rotting carcass. I could hear my pulse in my ears and my eyes were beginning to burn.

I sniffed, blinking rapidly, refusing to let a single drop fall. I was used to this. I could handle this. It was fine. Everything was fine.

“You’re right, Tristan. I didn’t pay for Jamie to be on the team, but not because I was unwilling to pay. However, I pay the same tuition as every family here, and I do it on my own. I get up and go to work every day to earn my son a spot here. And as an unemployed mother whose husband works to pay for her child’s spot, you have no right to comment on it.”

“You, of all people, are going to judge me for being a stay-at-home mother? How unsurprisingly hypocritical of you.”

I slid my sweaty hands down my thighs and gripped my knees. I could feel the heat of everyone’s eyes, and nausea coiled inside me.

“You’re putting words in my mouth so you can manipulate your way into being a victim. I won’t play that game with you. My son is here because he deserves it and because I work for it. End of story.”

Carolyn and Lara were both tapping at her shoulders, telling her to drop it, but she was a wildfire, blazing with no care of who or what she torched. “You can sit there in your second-hand secretary costume all you want, but we both know the only job you’re qualified for doesn’t require clothes.”

I flinched, my shield crumbling under the combination of her venom and the continued stares. A single tear leaked out, and I dashed it away only for a second to quickly follow. I stood, intent on running away to bawl in the privacy of my vehicle, but a firm grip around my wrist stopped me.

I looked down, blinking to see through the blur in my eyes. Garrett had a hand around me, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Tristan, and he was radiating with fury.

“You may not care about actually watching your children do something they enjoy, but we’re here to watch the game. Remove yourselves so we can do so.”