I can't sleep.

My body still buzzing with the electricity of the moment Wyatt, and I shared together. Of the fact that I finally told him how I feel that I was able to say the words I never imagined myself saying. In the span of thirty minutes, I feel like I became a completely different person.

The kind of person who can and does feel real, deep emotions.

The kind of woman who can be intelligent, and driven, and in control of her life all the while choosing to feel. Knowing that emotions don't make you weak, they make you strong.

Something I never thought I could be thanks to my mother.

I throw the covers off me with a huff, sliding out of my childhood bed and tugging on my slippers before heading downstairs. Maybe some tea or warm milk might help me sleep better. I don't entirely mind not being able to sleep, but I'm all fidgety, and honestly a bit blue-balled myself. And unfortunately, I only got a vibrator once I got to college, so there's no easy fix to my problem.

Though I suppose my fingers could get the job done.

That'll be my last resort.

First, I'll try to keep it simple with a warm drink. If that doesn't help, well then, I'll take things into my own hands. Literally.

The kitchen is lit only by the light over the stove, casting a soft glow around the room as I move to the fridge and grab the glass bottle of Morning Fresh, we'd had delivered yesterday. I warm it on the stove for a few minutes, add some cinnamon and then pour it into a mug. I wash the pan and then make to head back upstairs but the creak of a door stops me.

Light pours into the hallway off the bottom of the staircase and I see my mom step out of her office, wrapped in a silk robe, curlers in her hair.

"Aurora," she says quietly.

"I was just getting some—" I start but she cuts me off.

"Could you come in here a moment?" she asks, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Now?" I ask, it's nearly 1 am. I'd imagine she wants to go to bed.

"Yes." She answers crisply and I sigh, shuffling towards her office. I see papers strewn across her desk, and several binders open, indicating she must have been working. Say what you will, but my mother never takes a day off. It'd be impressive if it didn't also make me wonder about the stability of her mental health.

She shuts the door and moves silently to sit at her desk again, gesturing to the leather armchairs positioned on the other side which face her. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and take a seat, holding my mug in my hands.

"Look, on Thanksgiving I—" I start again but she cuts me off for a second time.

"This isn't about your disrespectful behavior towards me and your father," she interrupts. "Which, by the way, you still have not apologized for."

"Well, I—" I say but she raises a hand, silencing me. I slam my mouth shut, glaring at her and she glares back. Eyes narrowed at me; lips set in a thin, unflinching line.

"This is about your disrespectful behavior towards your brother."

I swallow, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"What?" I ask, making a face and she tsks lightly.

"Don't you dare play dumb with me young lady," she scolds. "Exactly how long have you been seeing Wyatt Muse? Seeing him in secret, behind all our backs, including his best friend, your brother."

My stomach swirls, cold sweat pooling on my neck as I feel something horrible wash over me. How the fuck does my mother know about this, of all people, this is the last thing I expected.

It feels like there's sand coating my tongue, my mouth dry as I try to form a thought or word to reply to her with.

"How?" I choke out and she laughs humorlessly.

"Imagine my surprise when I leave the family movie, we'd all agreed to watch together," she tells me. "A movie we all watch together every year, a tradition that has brought both our families closer, to get another glass of wine. Only to discover my daughter making an absolute fool of herself with a young man who is not only close with her beloved brother, but with the rest of our family."

I feel like I might vomit.

She saw us.

In the hallway.

Completely uninhibited, making out for all the world to see without a second thought.

"It's not that simple mom," I breathe quietly.

"I'm assuming he is the person you were referring to when you so lovingly declared that at least you had someone who loved you, right?" She asks and my gaze sinks to my lap, to the cooling mug of milk between my hands. My knuckles whiten as I grip the mug, trying to maintain my composure.

I remain silent as she lets out a loud, exaggerated breath.

"Please, for the love of God, do not tell me that you somehow think you love him too."

Slowly, I look up at her, and I know the second she meets my eyes, she knows the truth.

"Oh Aurora," she sighs, sinking back into her chair and pinching the bridge of her nose dramatically. "I can't believe this."

"We're going to tell Ryder." I whisper. "It's not just—we're serious about each other. I didn't plan this, obviously, it just kind-of happened but . . . mom, he makes me so happy."

"This is not part of your plan." She replies coolly.

"I know." I wheeze, feeling tears welling behind my eyes.

"So, you two are serious about each other," she purses her lips, looking at me again. She sits forward, folding her hands over the desk like she's addressing a disobedient employee. "What happens next?"

"We date—"

"No, I don't mean your relationships status," she hisses. "I mean your life. You two are in a serious relationship, Ryder gives you two his blessing, you date publicly and then Wyatt graduates. You still have a year of school to finish, what happens then?"

I swallow hard again, unable to find words before she's plowing forward.

"What happens when he either goes to graduate school, possible not in Colorado, or goes on that half-baked European adventure? Will you two stay together if you're far apart? Will he want to move with you when you go to law school?" she narrows her eyes, her tone sharpening and voice raising. "You've already begun to lose your focus this past semester, and now I know it's because of him. Will you continue to lose focus? Will you lose everything you've worked so hard for because of a man? Is this the kind-of daughter I've raised?!"

"Mom," I choke but she shakes her head.

"No," she shouts lowly. "No, no excuses. I don't care that Ryder doesn't know, that's on you to address or, knowing your character recently, not address. But that you would be willing to risk your future, to risk your ability to support yourself for a boy I only every knew to get high and waste the opportunities handed to him is—well, it's more than disappointing. It's devastating Aurora."

"I don't think—"

"No, you didn't think," she huffs. "Clearly."

Silence permeates the cold, empty space between us then. Stretching into the cracks she'd just formed in my newfound happiness and leaving me feeling hollow. Defeated. I stare down at my mug of now look-warm milk, anger beginning to brew amongst the sadness and confusion.

"Is there anything else?" I manage, clearing my throat and schooling my expression.

She blinks at me, a look of shock almost apparent on her face before she too reforms her neutral, disapproving look she'd been fixing me with since I'd openly rebelled against her at Thanksgiving.

"If you fall out of line, if you miss one more tutoring session or if any of your grade's slip, you can consider my support as good as finished." She replies evenly. "Financial and otherwise."

I narrow my eyes.

Finally, all the cards are on the table. The thing I'd known but had never been spoken. If I don't meet my mother's standards, I will essentially be disowned.

Nice.

"Okay." I nod firmly, standing and marching towards her office door. I don't look back as I whip it open, shutting it behind me swiftly as I move quickly back towards the kitchen. Once there I set my mug down, reaching into my sweatshirt pocket with shaking hands to pull out my phone.

I open the messaging app, pulling up Wyatt's contact.

Hey. Are you awake?

I wait, trying to control my breathing and the tears I can feel rapidly developing as I hope for a reply. The only thing I know is I need to get out of this house. Need to get away from that woman who claimed to be my mother. I need to be with someone who I know cares about me, who doesn't give their love to me conditionally. If you can even call what my mother gives me love.

Yeah, what's up sweetheart?

Can you meet me at the pool house?

Oh, fuck yeah.

See you there in five?

Sounds good.

I shut my phone off. Little does Wyatt know that the last thing on my mind is continuing what we started earlier. But I don't have the energy to explain that over text right now.

The pool house is exactly halfway between both our properties, a building that houses towels and guest quarters upstairs, it's the only break in our fence lines. Something my parents and Wyatt's grandparents built with entrances on either side. As kids, it'd been perfect for summer's spent splashing around outside in our pools.

As teens, it'd been the perfect place for antics, ranging from smoking weed with my friends to accidently catching Ryder hooking up with some girl my sophomore year. Needless to say, I wish I could have that particular memory expunged from my brain.

Now, it's a safe haven, away from that horrible lecture I'd just gotten. A place I don't think anyone else will be, not with Ollie and Isla tucked in bed and Ryder happily gone to bed after a successful phone call with Jourdan earlier.

I step inside, noting it's still dark and silent and wonder if Wyatt is here yet.

I feel my way through the living room, and then hear a door open to my right.

"Wyatt?" I gasp out and then a tall shadow moves towards me.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind," his voice washes over me and instantly my resolve, holding all my emotions at bay, crumbles. I feel his hands, and body as he pulls me into his arms, and I collapse against him.

"Wyatt," I breathe again, though it comes out more choked than I'd hoped, tears clouding my voice.

"Hey," his tone changes to one of concern, "Hey, what's wrong?"

His hands hold my face up, moonlight casting shadows across his expression as he gazes down at me, and I know he can see the tears falling silently down my cheeks.

"My mom saw us," I sob, starting to cry heavily as his eyebrows pull together and crease his forehead. "In the hallway earlier. She knows."

"Fuck," he mutters.

"She's not—" I stutter, taking a breath. "She isn't going to say anything, I don't think."

"What?"

"No, she didn't care that we were keeping this a secret from Ryder," I laugh dryly. "Surprise, surprise. But she—"

Another sob cuts me off and Wyatt looks pained in the dim lighting.

"She doesn't approve of me." He mutters softly and I shake my head.

"No," I manage, sniffling. "No, she wouldn't approve of any guy I dated seriously. Trust me. Boys are a distraction; she's always drilled that into me. She barely tolerated Harry when she met him at that law function last year, and we weren't even really together, ever."

"So, what happened?" He asks, wiping a few tears away with his thumbs.

"S—she told me," I swallow hard, choking back another sob. "That she'll cut me off if I slip up. Now that she knows I have a new priority in my life, she thinks I'll lose focus. And if I lose focus because of a man, she won't accept that. She said, if I miss a session with my LSAT tutor, fuck up at my job, or if my grades slip. She'll—her support is gone."

"But baby," Wyatt soothes. "You're the most focused and dedicated person I know. How the fuck is being in love going to change that? I wouldn't let that happen. You wouldn't let that happen. I know how hard you've always worked for your future."

"My mom doesn't see it that way." I cry. "It's because of my dad, my dad was a piece of shit and fucked her up really good. So now she thinks any guy in my life, seriously in my life, will do the same."

"That's not true." He tells me gently and I nod, sniffling again.

"I know," I breathe. "I know. And honestly, I always knew her support was conditional. That she wasn't going to fund my education without terms. But to hear her say it—"

"It hurts." He finished for me and a fresh batch of tears springs to my eyes. He pulls me against the soft material of the flannel he has on, wrapping his arms around me as I cry quietly against his chest, clinging to him for dear life.

"I'm so sorry she said those things," he murmurs, his lips pressing against the top of my head as he cradles me. "It's not fair to you, or the hard work you've always done."

My eyes drift shut, my breathing beginning to normalize at his words.

"I don't want her to be right," I say finally. "She can't be."

"She isn't." he tells me. "You won't lose focus, you're strong and so fucking smart. You're allowed to have a personal life and a work life, whatever that looks like. With or without me."

I nod against his chest.

But I don't mean about losing focus. I know I won't, Wyatt's right I'm smart and strong and I know why I'm working so hard.

I don't want my mom to be right about men. I want to show her I can be in a supportive, loving relationship and be working towards my goals. That it's possible to have both. Because not all men are the monsters, she's made them out to be.

At least not the men we love.

With my stepfather, she thinks she's safe because he can't hurt her the way my father did.

I think in her eyes, she'd be happy if I settled like she did. If I found a solid, hardworking man who wasn't ever going to distract me because I didn't really care for him the way you're supposed to.

It's then I feel for my stepfather.

He deserves better, better than a woman like my mother.

"I don't want to go back in that house tonight." I mumble, pulling back to look up at him as the tears on my cheeks dry. He nods.

"You want to stay here?" he asks. "Or come with me?"

"I'll come with you," I say. "Then in the morning I'll just tell anyone who asks that I was in the pool house."

"Alright," he smiles, keeping me close as we shuffle through the dark house and back towards his family's home. Once inside, it's dark and quiet as we make our way back to his room. There he locks the door again, just for good measure, and we climb into his bed.

"Do you feel a little better now?" Wyatt's voice is quiet as we lay together, under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms.

I nod.

"Yeah." I sigh. "Thank you for talking me down, and for letting me stay here."

"Wasn't even a question," he tells me simply. "I'll always be here for you Aurora."

"And I'm here for you." I say instantly, pulling back to look up at him and he smiles.

"I know you are."

Then he presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss, simple and warm, before tucking me against his chest. The steadiness of his breathing lulls me into a peaceful calm, soothing my brain, and soon, I drift off to sleep.

* * *