Chapter Thirty-One

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"Are you nervous?" Ghost's hand is on my thigh as he drives us nearer to the reception hall.

I cast him a worried frown and retort, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

"You know I'm never nervous." He boasts with a shrug, moving his hand from my thigh to readjust his tie around his neck.

I take a moment to shamelessly gawk at my boyfriend's appearance for the hundredth time today. My boyfriend. It feels surreal to refer to him as that. I mean, it only happened last night, so I am still getting used to it. But I couldn't be happier knowing that we're finally together.

Last night we ate our pizza by the cliff— after picking the slices apart— and by the time we got back to Ghost's place I was half asleep from exhaustion. So nothing else really happened once we got in bed. And this morning was a flurry of activity going to my early classes and rushing back to my dorm to get dressed for the wedding, and now driving over two hours to the town where my dad grew up where the wedding is taking place. 

We missed the ceremony, but we'll get there just in time for the start of the reception. The closer we get, the more I'm starting to regret my decision to come. I haven't seen any of my dad's family in years. I'm not looking forward to answering all their questions about what I've been up to in life.

As usual, Ghost can sense my hesitancy as we reach the destination of our long road trip. Once he parks the car in the already full parking lot, he turns to me with a reassuring smile, "Rose, it'll be alright. If it's too much at any time just tell me and we can leave."

I wordlessly nod my head and flash him a weak smile. We get out of the car and walk hand in hand towards the entrance. We follow the signs inside that point us in the direction of the "Whitaker/Rose Wedding" and step inside the large, beautifully decorated ballroom.

Pale pink uplights set the tone with a live band playing softly on a raised stage. Tables with elaborate centerpieces are dispersed across the outer edge of the room, with the center left wide open for dancing. The head table sits at the far end of the room, where I spot my smiling Aunt Lillian sitting beside who I presume to be her new husband. They smile and talk with a couple of people standing in front of them.

I nod in their direction and suggest to Ghost, "Let's go say hi before we find a place to sit."

He just nods and lets me lead the way. We pass vaguely familiar faces, whom I mostly just smile politely to as we continue forward. We reach the table just as the people they were talking to walk off. I step forward and smile widely at my Aunt.

"Hi, Aunt Lillian. Congratulations!"

She lets out a loud gasp at seeing me and quickly shoots up out of her seat and rounds the table. The breath is squeezed out of me when she pulls me into a tight embrace and squeals in my ear, "Oh my god! Emerson, I'm so glad you made it. Your mom told me you were coming and I was so happy to hear that! Wow, you're such a grown young woman now, I can hardly believe it."

She says all of this in the same breath, rocking us side to side with excitement. She pulls away, keeping me at arms length as she looks me over with a proud grin.

"I'm happy to see you too." I tell her, "You look beautiful."

"So do you." She pats me lovingly on the cheek before turning back towards the table, "Oh, this is Henry, my new husband. Henry, this is my niece, Emerson, and this is her..."

Her words die off as she turns to Ghost with a confused expression. She clearly was expecting Brody to be at my side, but when she doesn't recognize Ghost, she draws a blank.

He flashes her an easy smile and steps forward to shake her hand, "I'm Ghost."

"Ghost." Lillian repeats with a cocked brow, "Interesting."

"It's a nickname." I explain lightly.

"Oh, how cute." She chuckles, gripping his hand to shake, "Lovely to meet you, Ghost."

"You as well," He returns, "Congratulations to you both. It looks great in here."

"Oh, thank you, but I can't take the credit for anything. The reception hall took care of most of it, along with my planner. It was honestly the easiest wedding in the world. All I had to do was show up."

"That's great." I enthuse, glancing around the large space, "Um, have you seen my mom anywhere?"

"Oh, yes she was sitting at a table over there." Lillian gestures at a vague area to the left, and I squint in that direction.

A group of people come shuffling over with expectant looks towards the bride and groom. I flash Lillian another smile and remark, "Well, we'd better go find her and leave you to it."

"I'll come to your table later and we can catch up some more." She promises, squeezing my arm lightly before turning away to greet the new guests.

Ghost and I walk off towards where my mother is supposedly sitting. I find my grip on him increasingly clenching the closer we get to finding her. I can only hope she gives him as warm a reception as Aunt Lillian had.

Though it's not likely.

"Remind me to remind you to cut your nails soon." Ghost whispers in my ear with a teasing smirk.

I glance down at my fingers digging into his wrist and quickly retract my hand, "Sorry." I murmur, "I guess I am pretty nervous, I just know my mom—"

My words dry up when I finally spot her, sitting rigid and aloof at a table by herself. Her shoulders look stiff as she glances around the crowded room, making faces of vague disinterest at everything she sees. Until her eyes land on me, and then that disinterest turns to judgement as she regards the guy towering at my side.

"Breathe." Ghost reminds me softly as we step closer. By the pinch in my shoulders he can probably tell that the woman we're approaching is in fact my mom.

When we're close enough I plaster a smile and greet loudly, "Hi, mom. How are you?"

Her mouth quirks at me as she stands from her seat to meet me with a brief embrace, "Hello, Emerson. So glad you could finally make it. You know I had to sit through that entire ceremony on my own."

I pass her an injured look as we pull apart and I mutter, "I'm sorry, I told you I had class today, we couldn't leave early enough to make it to that."

"Hm, almost sounds like you actually care about school. These days I wouldn't know." She remarks with pursed lips.

I chew the inside of my cheek at her slight dig. True, I haven't been giving the biggest effort in school ever since break ended. I've been preoccupied with Ghost, and writing. I had stupidly hoped mom wouldn't notice the slip in my grades. They've gone from below average to dangerously close to failing. 

Not wanting to get into that, however, I quickly turn to gesture to Ghost and introduce him, "Mom, I want you to meet—"

"So you're the new boy." Mom interrupts with a discerning frown, her eyes sweeping him up and down, picking apart whatever flaws she can latch onto. Her brow cocks challengingly at him, "The one with the silly name. What was it, Ghoul?"

"Um, Ghost, ma'am, it's nice to meet you." He corrects her with a clear of his throat. His hand reaches out to shake hers but she merely regards it before turning her nose up at him.

"That's a ridiculous name, I don't think I can actually go around calling you that."

"Mom—" I start with a frown, but Ghost quickly brushes it off with a pleasing smile.

"You can call me Alister, if you'd like. That's fine."

I pass him a concerned look, but he disregards it, continuing to smile like a champ at my mom. He's seriously trying his best to win her over, and I appreciate it, but I also don't want him to feel uncomfortable either. I know how much he dislikes his name, especially after what Mila and Tay told me.

"I guess that's normal enough." Mom mutters as she brushes her hair over her shoulder. She slides back into her seat and I hesitantly take the chair beside her, with Ghost at my side.

I try to focus on the upbeat tempo the band is playing, but the happy setting we're in does little to lighten the mood of the table. Mom is looking Ghost up and down, not even attempting to hide her judgement, while Ghost sits stiffly, his smile tight as he tries to keep his cool. I sit between them  feeling every kind of discomfort.

"So," Mom begins drolly, "You two are together? Or still just friends?"

"We're together." I tell her, snaking my arm through Ghosts and gripping his fingers tightly, "Official as of last night."

"Well, congratulations." She states, sounding anything but happy. Her eyes pierce me as she murmurs, mostly to herself, "You do move on quickly, don't you?"

My brow furrows at her, but our attention is drawn elsewhere when it is announced over the mic that dinner will be served shortly and everyone should take a seat. The groups of people standing all around shuffle their way to whatever tables they can. I smile politely at a few distant cousins who take some of the chairs at the other side of the round table. Mom acts as though she doesn't recognize a single soul, busying herself with her champagne flute.

That doesn't work for long, though, because the next person who approaches us is impossible to ignore.

"There she is! Little Emmy-Bemmy, I was wondering when you'd turn up."

I glance up with a grin at my Uncle Owen, and as usual my heart clenches with a pang of hurt at the sight of him. He looks so much like my dad, from his square jaw to his light brown eyes. His dark hair is slightly greying in streaks and his smile lines have deepened over the years.

I stand from my seat to meet him with a hug and his deep chuckle vibrates through me as I mutter into his shoulder, "It's so good to see you."

If I close my eyes, it almost feels like I'm hugging my dad again.

We pull apart and he fixes me with a parental frown, "Where've you been darling? We haven't seen you in ages. Remember when you used to visit every summer? What happened to that?"

I glance down with a guilty expression, "I've been so busy with school and everything. I'm sorry."

"Ah, no matter." Uncle Owen smiles reassuringly before glancing down at Ghost and setting a firm hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly, "Now introduce me to this handsome, young man."

Ghost hurries to his feet and grips my Uncle's hand with a firm shake while I say, "This is my boyfriend, Ghost. Ghost, this is my Uncle Owen."

Ghost nods at him and remarks, "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Sir?" Uncle Owen laughs boisterously, "No need to suck up to me son, I'm not the one you need to worry about pleasing."

At that, my mom clears her throat and remarks stiffly, "Nice to see you, Owen."

He tilts his head at her and utters, "Terry. Saved you a seat at the ceremony, but we couldn't find you anywhere."

"Yeah, I just sat in the back." Mom tells him lightly, her gaze lingering on some spot across the room, nowhere near Uncle Owen's direction.

He passes her a pitied smile, knowing the same thing I do. It's still hard for her to be near him. He reminds her too much of the man she's lost.

It's probably for that reason that he remarks, "Well, I'd better go find my wife, she went off in search of a table somewhere. I'll see you out on the dance floor later, I'm sure."

I promise to save him a dance before he wanders off and Ghost and I slide back into our chairs. Mom remains cold and stiff, chugging down the rest of her drink as a group of waiters emerge with trays of dinner plates in their hands. Steaming steak and mashed potatoes are set down in front of us and we immediately dig in. I'm grateful for the excuse to not have to make small talk anymore.

As I shovel forkfuls of food in my mouth, mom eats delicately beside me. She pats the corner of her mouth with a napkin before perking up as though she just remembered something of great importance, "Oh, Emerson, you'll never guess who I spoke to on the phone the other day."

Judging by the gleeful tone of voice, I'd guess whatever she's about to say won't be very good, but I have to reply, "Who?"

A sly smile snakes onto her lips and her eyes barely dart in Ghost's direction as she states, "Elisabeth Harrison."

My throat dries at her words and her smug expression. Of course she'd find a way to bring the conversation back around to Brody and his family in some way. My fingers curl tightly around my fork as I force down my bite of food before muttering sorely, "That's nice."

Moms goes on, despite my clear discomfort, "Yes, she called me out of the blue and we talked for nearly an hour. Isn't that so crazy?"

I nod, and beside me I can sense Ghost's confusion. He tosses me a concerned glance and I just subtly shake my head, as if to say don't worry about it. But still, mom continues.

"She told me Brody has been doing so well in class lately. He's gotten all A's on his midterms, even though she disclosed to me that he has been beside himself for weeks now, what with everything that went down between you too. Elisabeth seemed shocked about your breakup, by the way. She said it came totally out of nowhere."

Her pointed look in Ghost's direction does not go unnoticed. By now he can tell what's happening. He can put the pieces together that mom is sitting here praising my abusive ex right in front of him.

I attempt to stay neutral as I remark, "Well, she wasn't in our relationship, so it doesn't really matter what she thinks." I hope the double meaning of my words gets through to her, but even if they do, they don't deter her in the slightest.

"She also told me about some pretty nasty rumors flying around about Brody. Said that Brody's entire life has been turned upside down, that a bunch of people are trying to badmouth him any chance they can get. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Her brow perches at me, almost in a threatening manner. I swallow hard. I've never told mom anything about Brody's abusive behavior. Partly, for this reason right here. She's acting in disbelief, like it's my fault Brody's name is being dragged through the mud.

I can feel Ghost sitting rigid beside me. His hand reaches out to rest on my knee comfortingly, but it does little to dissolve my nerves as my mom pins me with her piecing, accusing gaze.

Softly, I shake my head, "I don't really wanna talk about this right now, mom."

Her lips purse at me, and for a moment I think she's going to ignore my request, but instead she just huffs loudly before turning to Ghost and questioning, "So, Alister, are you in school?"

"Uhm, no, ma'am, not at the moment." He answers softly, his tone clearly restrained.

"Oh, so you plan to be in the nearby future?" Mom quizzes with a challenging look.

He shakes his head, "No, it's not really my thing."

"Oh yes, how could I forget, you're a boxer." Mom muses wryly, "Yes, I suppose when you've taken so many hits to the head, school doesn't really seem like much of an option anymore."

I can feel his fingers curl into my skin, clenching harder as his jaw ticks slightly. Slowly, he responds, "That's not it. I just don't really see the point in paying thousands of dollars to learn something I won't even use in life."

Mom's gaze narrows at him, "Well how far can you really go with boxing anyway?"

He shrugs, appearing a bit self-conscious as he glances away and replies, "There are a few different routes I can take. At the moment I'm just getting in as many fights as I can to build up my credentials. My buddy, Dane, he's actually also my manager and he schedules fights for me. He's been trying to get me into a league and if he can, I could be signed into year long contracts with high-profile fighters. I could be featured on ESPN and get sponsors and make a career out of it."

I flash him an encouraging smile, but mom barely contains a scoff as she mutters, "Yeah, until you get punched too hard and end up brain dead, and where does that leave my daughter?"

"Mom." I scold, frowning over at her, but Ghost squeezes my leg lightly.

"You're right, there's always a risk of injury." He concedes easily, "But that's just something I'll have to deal with. Boxing is all I've ever wanted to do, and if I didn't give myself a real chance just for fear of getting hurt, I'd always regret it."

Mom turns her nose up at him as she retorts, "That seems a bit ridiculous, but who am I to tell you how to live."

Everyone seems to be finishing up with their dinner, and many couples are moving to the dance floor as the volume and the speed of the band pick up. The other people at our table leave to dance as well and I desperately want to pull Ghost along just to end this conversation, but mom is on a path of destruction it would seem, and there's no slowing her down.

"You know, Emerson will likely not graduate, at least not with grades that will get her hired anywhere, so she really needs someone who can provide for her."

"Mom, I'm perfectly capable—"

"You're not, Emerson," She cuts in sharply, her eyes narrowing at me with disdain, "You're going to end up on the streets somewhere. You know I can't provide for you forever, I can hardly keep myself afloat. You really think this boy can get you anywhere?"

"I don't need him to get me anywhere. I can take care of myself—"

"I just don't get it, Emerson," Mom sighs exasperatedly, rubbing her temple in disarray, "You threw it all away, for him. Brody was good to you. Brody kept you focused. He was not some nobody floating through life without a plan, he was going places. You really think Ghost can provide you that same comfort?"

My jaw tightens and I feel my blood boiling. Despite the setting we're in, I want to scream at her at the top of my lungs. But I attempt to tamp it down for all our sakes as I grate through gritted teeth, "Mom, do not talk about Ghost like that. He deserves just as much respect as you showed Brody. He deserves more, actually."

Mom scoffs, "I don't see how that's true."

Ghost can sense I'm close to losing it. His hand presses lightly between my tight shoulder blades, rubbing slightly, silently telling me it's okay. That he doesn't care what my mom thinks, he just wants me to be alright.

But I'm sick of the way mom is treating him.

"Apologize, right now." I command, my voice seething.

She passes me a surprised look. I don't think she's ever seen me so mad. And she's definitely never seen me stick up for myself. Despite the shock, she purses her lips at me and remarks, "I'm just looking out for you, Emerson. God knows you can't do it for yourself. I'm helping you realize all that you gave up. Brody was a catch. Maybe it's not too late to get him back. Maybe if you just—"

"No, I don't want him back, mom." I snap, slamming my fist down on the table, hitting my fork which clatters loudly against the glass plate. I'm really hoping no one else is noticing the scene I'm making. I don't want to be doing this at my Aunt's wedding, but mom's really left me no choice. She blinks at me with wide, confused eyes as I stare her straight in the eyes and hiss sharply, "I don't want anything to do with that narcissistic, alcoholic, cheating, abusive piece of shit."

Her mouth pops open with confusion as she tries to process me words, "Wha—"

"Brody was not the perfect boyfriend you think he was, mom. I

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