My Mother Recognized My Fake Fiance From an Autumn Night Five Years Ago
“He is a vagrant, Mia,” she whispered, her sharp tone cutting through the quiet hallway. “I know what I saw five years ago on that road, and I know what he is doing here now. He is trying to get close to you to get to us.”
“He didn’t even want to come here tonight,” I said. “I had to persuade him.”
“Then persuade him to leave,” she said, her face inches from mine, her breath smelling faintly of coffee and mints. “Tell him there is a hotel in town. Tell him whatever you want, but I want him gone before we breakfast.”
“I can’t do that,” I said.
“You will do it if you want to remain a part of this family,” she said, her eyes narrowing into cold, hard slits. “I will not sleep with that man under my roof.”
She let go of the quilt suddenly, the sudden release of weight causing me to stumble back a half-step.
“Think about your future, Mia,” she said, her voice returning to its normal, polite volume as she smoothed her hair. “We only want what is best for you.”
