Chapter 5

POV: Joanna

I stayed outside for twenty minutes.

When I finally went back in, I had painstakingly regained my composure. I discovered Hailey and Mark in the living room, perched on opposite ends of the sofa, looking like complete strangers waiting at a bus stop. Hailey's face was flushed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Mark remained perfectly still, his hands clasped between his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I apologize," I stated, deliberately adopting a tone of motherly worry. "I had a migraine. They can start quite abruptly. I'm feeling better now."

"Mom, you left. You walked out right in the middle of dinner."

"I know. I'm truly sorry."

"Mark was sharing details about his job and his family with you. He flew all the way from San Francisco specifically to see you, and you just... walked away."

The accusatory tone in her voice felt like a knife twisting in a wound that I had to keep hidden. I remained seated in the armchair opposite them, adjusting my skirt and clasping my hands together in my lap.

Looking him in the eye, I addressed him, "Mark, tell me about your family, specifically your parents."

He raised his gaze. Under the lamplight, I could see the boy he used to be, the hunger, and the ambition disguised as charm. I had once mistaken that for depth, and I had mistaken it for love.

"My father, Richard Robin, established Robin Capital two decades ago. My mother, Eleanor, died from breast cancer when I was twelve. His voice remained steady, a sign of preparation. "I also have a younger sister, Claire, who resides in New York, and we share a close bond."

"Regarding your early career, you mentioned consulting."

"Mom," Hailey interjected, "Why are you questioning him so closely?"

"I'm engaging in conversation." I retorted.

"You're conducting a cross-examination." She fired back.

Mark raised a hand, saying, "It's okay, Hailey. Your mother is absolutely right to ask questions. I'm marrying her daughter, so I anticipate being closely examined." He then faced me, offering a cautious, measured smile that suggested a man navigating a precarious situation. "My early twenties were quite unfocused. I took on consulting work just to cover my expenses while I tried to figure out my path. I collaborated with several startups, which taught me valuable lessons about what to avoid."

"Are there any specific startups you'd like to mention?" I asked

"I've been involved with a real estate development firm for a short time and a logistics company. However, I doubt anything I've done would be particularly impressive to someone with your experience, Mrs. Edison." He answered.

He kept repeating "Mrs. Edison," and each time it felt like a small act of violence. I wanted to scream, "You called me Jo. In the dark, you called me Joanna. You spoke my name as if it were a prayer, and then you vanished like a thief."

"Mom," Hailey said, her voice strained. "Could I talk to you privately?"

"Certainly. Mark, feel free to get yourself a drink. The bar has everything."

I followed Hailey into the kitchen. The instant the door closed, she spun around to face me, her calm demeanor shattering like ice under pressure.

"What's gotten into you?" she hissed.

"You've been acting cold, distant, and hostile lately—"

"I'm keeping you safe." I said.

"From what? From Mark? The man who loves me? The man who wants to marry me?" She asked

"You don't know him, Hailey," I shot back.

"Neither do you! You just met him an hour ago!" she retorted.

I started to speak, the truth poised on my tongue like an active grenade. I know him better than you do. I know his taste. I am familiar with the scar on his left hip, which he got from a fall when he was a child. I recognize the sound he makes when he reaches a climax, and I also know the quiet emptiness he leaves in his wake once he's decided you're no longer worth his time.

Instead, I told her, "He's not the right person for you. I can tell. Hailey, I have a knack for sizing people up. My empire is built on my ability to understand men like him."

"Men like him? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I'm talking about men who desire things they can't hold onto. Men who gather up attractive, self-sufficient women as if they were prizes."

Hailey recoiled, her face losing all its color. "That's unfair. You have no idea what he's like."

"I've heard plenty."

"No, you don't. You're not aware that he recalls my coffee preference without me repeating it. You also don't know that he shares articles on risk management with me because he understands my dedication to my job..Mom, you don't realize that he actually cried when he asked me to marry him. He cried! I've never had anyone cry over me before." She said.

Her words struck me like stones. When I thought of Mark crying, a complex mix of feelings arose: jealousy, sadness, and the painful realization that he had never shed a tear for me, not ever, not even when he utterly devastated me.

"I forbid it," I stated.

Hailey's eyes blinked in surprise. "What?" she asked.

"The marriage," I clarified. "I forbid it. I will not give my blessing, I will not offer my support, and I absolutely refuse to act happy while you're making what I believe is the biggest mistake of your life."

"You aren't able to do that. I am twenty-five years of age. I have no need for your authorization."

"No. However, you desire it. And you shall never possess it. Not for his sake. Not for the sake of Mark Robin."

Hailey just stared at me, her mouth agape and her eyes wide with a deep, profound hurt. This pain went beyond the current situation, beyond Mark, reaching all the way down to the core of everything that had created the distance between us: the countless cold mornings, the unreturned embraces, and the missed birthdays.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why are you doing this?"

Gazing at my daughter—my stunning, spirited, solitary daughter—I saw a reflection of my thirty-nine-year-old self, yearning for affection, longing to be selected, oblivious to the dangers disguised as charming figures.

"Because my love for you runs deep," I explained. "And I understand the sacrifice involved in loving a man such as him."

"You have no idea about him whatsoever!" She shot back at me.

"I know," I began, but then paused. The truth felt like a fire in my throat. I had the power to stop this. I could reveal everything to her. With just one sentence, I could ruin her happiness and spare her from suffering through the same pain I had experienced for years.

However, when I tried to speak, only silence emerged.

I was unable to do it. I couldn't bear to look at my daughter's hopeful expression and tell her that the man she loved had previously been my own. I was unable to admit that I had been keeping this secret for five years, that I had never spoken of him, and that I had allowed her to enter a relationship with someone from my past without any caution.

If I revealed the truth to her now, I wouldn't merely lose her to him, but the truth itself would be the cause of our separation.

"I can't provide an explanation at this moment," I stated, my voice faltering. "Not just yet. However, I implore you, Hailey, please place your trust in me. Do not proceed with marrying him."

Hailey stared at me for an extended period. Then, slowly and deliberately, she shook her head, just as she had done at sixteen when I wouldn't let her attend a concert, at eighteen when I questioned her choice of college major, and at twenty when I criticized her first apartment.

"No," she stated. "I'm not sure what's troubling you, but I refuse to let you ruin the only positive aspect of my life due to some paranoid feeling. I love him, he loves me, and we are getting married, regardless of whether you approve."

She shoved past me, returning to the living room. I overheard her informing Mark they were departing. I could hear his calm, worried tone. I heard the front door open and then close.

I remained in my kitchen, by myself, enveloped by the quietness of a large house that had never truly felt like my own.

And then, with startling clarity that made my knees give out, I understood I had just made the gravest error of my life. It wasn't because I had forbidden the marriage, but because I had kept silent about my reasons.