Troubled Indeed

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

We got some dinner from a fast-food place, even though mom was very much against it. She says she has to watch her weight now that her wedding dress is already altered, but I keep telling her she looks amazing, and one burger won't hurt her figure.

The sun has set, and the city lights are shining bright. Benji fell asleep as soon as I put him in his seat. We have about a thirty-minute drive until we reach her house. This is the perfect window for me to speak my mind. I need to talk to mom about Alexi and his past, but I don't know where to start.

Mom hums some slow tune while she enjoys the view of our city. She has a smile on her face, thinking about her wedding and her future husband, no doubt.

"Mom, can I ask you something without you freaking out?" I dare to ask.

She stops humming and even though it's dark inside the car, I can see her head turning toward me.

"The question itself is built on an assumption that someone would freak out," she says calmly.

"I'm sorry, but there's something on my mind," I reply.

"So, ask me whatever you want to know," she says and starts humming again.

"Do you trust Alexi?"

Once again, she stops humming. I guess she wasn't expecting that sort of question two days before her wedding. She doesn't reply immediately, taking her time to think.

"Sure."

"Sure? That doesn't sound very convincing." I'm a little bit disappointed in her answer. A person who completely trusts another person says "Yes" without any hesitation.

"What can I say? I love him, that much I know for sure," she says confidently, "But trust isn't something you can develop based on someone's looks or how they treat you. Trust goes way deeper. You have to know a person through and through in order to say that you fully trust them. I've known Alexi for four months, which is absolutely not enough time to learn to trust someone. But I'm old enough to take a leap of faith here. I already had a white wedding, and a beautiful family, but then everything changed in an instant when your father died. I'm having my second chance at life, and I want it. So right now, I can say, sure I trust Alexi, but only as much as I know him."

"I understand."

We drive in silence for a while, but she doesn't hum anymore. I think I spoiled her mood. I hope I didn't put any stupid ideas in her head.

"Are you upset that I asked?" I ask cautiously.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Then why did you fall silent all of a sudden?"

She sighs heavily and opens her mouth, but then closes it again and doesn't say anything.

"What? Please talk to me," I plead.

"Everything is happening at hyper-speed. And I know I wanted this all along but what frightens me is what will happen after the wedding. What if he realizes I'm too old for him and he wants some young bimbo next to him? What if my butterflies fly away and I'll be married to a man I know nothing about?"

"Mom, trust me on this one. If he wanted a young bimbo, he would marry a young bimbo. But he chose to marry you – he clearly loves you."

"What makes you so sure about it?" she asks me, "You asked me mere minutes ago if I trust him."

I'd love to tell her all about the strip club, where young hot girls strut around topless, and Alexi being involved with the business. I still don't know what his role there was, but I know for damn sure he doesn't want some young bimbo next to him. But I can't tell her anything, not before her wedding.

"Anthony told me that Alexi has been faithful to you and that he talks about you non-stop," I say part of the truth, "And Anthony has not lied to me before." He just keeps the truth to himself, but I'm not going to tell that to my mom, because that's my problem, not hers.

This makes her smile. I think she's flattered.

"And as for that other thing – your butterflies, I believe they have been pupating for so long that they'll be flying for years now."

"Well, that's for sure," mum bursts out laughing. And I laugh with her.

"I have another question," I ask as soon as we catch our breaths.

"Shoot," she says, wiping her eyes.

"How much do you know about his past?"

"I don't know," she says slowly, "Only as much as he has told me, which is not much at all. I only want to know what he's ready to share, and I've told him that. I believe that the more I learn to trust him, the more he shares. I can't force him to open up. I have my own secrets I haven't told him. It's a two-way street. Besides, the past is the past. I'm too old to deal with what has been, so I'm focusing on the present instead."

"That's mighty wise of you. I'm the complete opposite of you – I've badgered Anthony so much about his past that he decided to share as much as he could. But some puzzle pieces are still missing."

"All I can say is try to be patient with him. You two have time, you're still so young."

"Thanks, mom." That's a piece of advice that never gets old. But I can't be patient – I have a gut feeling that there's something important Anthony is not telling me.

The moment we finish talking I get a text from Anthony, saying he'll be home later in the night. That right there is why I have trust issues with him. He keeps me on my toes whenever he's not with me. I feel like I'm constantly out of the loop and something is going on behind my back. He always keeps me wondering where he is and who is with him. And now that I know about the strip club, things are ten times worse.

I ask mom if I can leave Benji at hers tonight. I don't want to have Benji alone with me when Anthony is not there – I'm too afraid of Simon showing up at my doorstep.