Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I get my cell phone from my purse, and a little tremor of anticipation goes through me as I unlock the screen and call my mother. I have to know why. Why did she deprive me of a father when she knew how deeply I craved one?
“Jo?” My mum’s tone is sharp. She’s already on edge, already defensive. That only annoys me more. It’s not her who gets to be angry about this. “Are you back home?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still wrapped up in all of this New York nonsense.”
“Mum,” I say, keeping my voice measured. “The DNA test came back. You can stop the lies now. I know.”
“You know nothing,” she snaps. Then she speaks again, softer, with an almost whispered edge. “Why did you need to go there and bring all of this up again?”
“Because I was looking for my father. And someone said Joseph Manswell might be him,” I say, the words tasting strange on my tongue. “And now I know for certain.”
There’s a pause. Then she sighs. “Jo, I didn’t tell you because he wasn’t a good man. He was cruel to me, and I was scared that it would carry on to you. I just wanted to protect you. From him, from his psychopathy.”
I stare at the wall opposite me, feeling a hollow ache bloom in my chest. “He was a psychopath? What did he do to you?”
“I’m going to subject myself to that pain by reliving it all again. Suffice for you to know that I did it to protect you.”
I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Protect me? Protect me by lying to me for twenty-six years? Protect me by keeping me away from my father’s life, from knowing my own history, from meeting him even once? From letting me decide for myself?”
“I did it for your own good,” she repeats stubbornly.
“Mum,” I say, my voice tight. “You lied long after I was old enough to accept that my father might not be a good person. You should have given me the chance to find out for myself.”
“I … I only ever tried to do what was best for you,” she says, her voice trembling with nerves. “I couldn’t … I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting you.”
“You hurt me,” I say softly, my voice almost a whisper. “By hiding him. By hiding this from me.”
“I know, Jo. I’m sorry,” my mum sobs.
All of the earlier fire has gone from her voice, and now she just sounds defeated. I want to be able to tell her it’s ok, I get it, but I don’t. Not really. I am not ready to forgive and forget. I press my lips together. There’s nothing more to say. Not tonight. Not like this.
“I’ll speak to you later,” I say, my voice controlled. “Goodnight, Mum.”
“Don’t be too angry with me, Jo. Please.”
“It’s all right, Mum. I understand. You did your best.”
“Goodnight, Jo,” she whispers.
I end the call, set my cell phone aside, and stare out of the window into the darkness beyond. The city lights glimmer faintly in the distance. It is as if I am looking at someone else’s life through a pane of glass. Even the quiet of the house feels different now. Joseph Manswell was my father. Confirmed beyond any doubt. The DNA only formalized what I already believed, but it shifts everything. Mum’s lies are dead, and no one can accuse me of being an imposter now.
I open the group chat I have with Jenny, Serena and Olivia. I have sent a few messages since I got here, but not as many as I should have, and they have been messaging me, but I have been putting them off, promising to update them later. My fingers hover over the keyboard for a few seconds, then I begin typing, carefully cataloguing the past few crazy days of my life.
Hey ladies,
I promised an update, so here it is. The funeral was surreal. There were so many people there. Rich, famous, influential. They were the kind of people you’d expect to show up at Elon Musk’s funeral. Anyway, the DNA test results are in, and Joseph Manswell was my father. The will reading is tomorrow, and I’m expected to be there. I’ve met my stepbrother, Sheldon. He’s actually surprisingly nice. Lydia, his mom, not so much. She’s cold and very formal. Oh, I might as well just say it – she’s a bitch. I’ve made a friend called Betty. She’s the housekeeper. She’s sweet, smart, and knows a lot about the house and my father. Oh, and the latest update on the ever-charming Axel Rhodes. He still looks at me like I climbed out from underneath a slimy rock. Today he expressed his belief that I have no right to be here. Fun guy.
I think that covers the latest major highlights, loads of big kisses.