The Heart That's Meant to Love You [COMPLETED]

Chapter 71: Aftereffects

Kieran had never hated her. Naomi knew that for a fact after the conversation at the party. Every word he spewed her direction had been meant to protect her. Just like the night at the retreat. Kieran wanted her to believe he was a big, bad wolf, but he didn't have a ruthless bone in his body.

If he didn't want her to know that he legitimately liked her, Kieran should have kept his nose out of her business.

Of course, Naomi was still angry at him, but that didn't change the fact that she had feelings for him. She had come to terms with that already. Kieran had expanded her world far beyond what she could have imagined, in so many ways. He had stayed close to her even when she tried to push him away.

Naomi had every intention of returning the favor.

But first, she had to explain to her mother why Oliver didn't bring her home.

Kieran's revelation had finally placed the last puzzle piece into the mystery. Ms. Rowe had definitely been making some underhanded deals with Oliver Bettencourt, heir to the Bettencourt fortune. An engagement? Sounded like something Naomi's mother would spring on her the morning of the wedding ceremony.

Deep breath in, remain composed. Naomi closed her eyes, inhaled, and exhaled her fury.

The apartment door beeped as she pushed it open.

"You're lying to me now?"

Naomi looked up, straight into the face of her fuming mother. "Lying?"

That came out of left field. Naomi didn't remember saying anything as she came through the door. She had definitely told her mother that Oliver was going to take her to a party. So, lying? What did Ms. Rowe mean?

Ms. Rowe, of course, merely set her jaw as if Naomi had started the apocalypse. "Come speak with me."

Those words always gave Naomi anxiety. Their talks were never two-sided. Ms. Rowe said what she wanted and Naomi took it all silently. That's how it had been since the creation of the Grand Plan. A plan that—more and more—Naomi was coming to think she never should have followed in the first place.

Yet, her feet moved to follow her mother into the living room. The arena for all of their discussions and arguments.

In typical Ms. Rowe fashion, Naomi's mother took a seat in the perfect center of the sofa. As if it was a throne and she was about to grace her subjects with wisdom from on high.

Naomi folded her hands behind her back, her fingers fidgeting in anxiety though her face spoke only of disinterest. Thanks to her mother's training, Naomi was well-versed in hiding her emotions.

"You were never going to tell me." A statement, not a question.

Naomi hadn't expected a question from her mother's know-it-all attitude. But she had a question of her own. "About what?"

"About what?" Ms. Rowe scoffed. "I should think you know very well, since you planned your lies so thoroughly."

"I would like to know of what crime I am being accused." Naomi carefully enunciated her words, sure to keep any trace of sarcasm out of them.

Nowadays, the discussions between her and her mother were becoming more and more redundant. Accusations without explanations. Shouting without resolution. Naomi grew tired of the petulant way they treated each other, but until her mother understood that she was an adult, she doubted they would get any further.

Ms. Rowe's eyes narrowed as if Naomi had betrayed her. "A retreat, Naomi? Didn't I warn you to stay away from trivial people? Why would you do something so ridiculous? Do you want to disappoint me?"

"I took a rest via a school retreat, yes." Naomi owned up to it because if her mother had brought it up, that meant that she had some sort of evidence.

"And you lied about it. I taught you to never lie."

"I wanted to go." Naomi tried to keep her words short. If she started rambling, she would never stop.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"You would have said no."

"If you had asked, I might have sent someone to go with you."

Yes. That was just one of the problems. Ms. Rowe couldn't allow Naomi to say or do anything on her own. Naomi, until recently, even had a problem having her own thoughts. Everything was regulated by Ms. Rowe. Everything had to have her seal of approval. It was a miracle that Naomi had the permission to breathe on her own.

Now would be a terrible time to bring up the rumors about Naomi and Oliver. Ms. Rowe might lock Naomi away for the rest of the semester. But the anger caused by Naomi's questions swirled in her head, begging for a release she dared not give it.

"It was a simple overnight trip, mother," Naomi explained. "I wanted to go by myself."

"What would we have done had something happened to you?"

"It didn't."

"But what if it had?"

"The school has counselors. The site had medics. I was in no danger."

It was an excuse to nitpick. Naomi and Ms. Rowe both knew that better than anyone else.

And when nitpicking didn't work, Ms. Rowe returned to her oldest solutions.

"I spent so much love and devotion to raise you up. I thought we were the closest. It seems I was wrong to think like that."

Naomi's eyes teared on their own. She took a shallow breath to stop herself from giving in to the guilt trip. "We are close," Naomi rebutted the argument.

"People who are close don't lie to each other."

Naomi wanted to promise that it would never happen again, but she couldn't. It might. Up until now, Naomi had thought she could be the perfect daughter. She was beginning to see that no one could be perfect. Not even if they followed the Grand Plan.

"I don't regret it," Naomi muttered, half hoping that her mother wouldn't hear her.

Then, for the first time in her life, Naomi turned and walked away.

Ms. Rowe shot up off the sofa, all her rage back in full force. "Naomi! Get back here! We aren't done with this! Promise me you won't do it again!"

As quickly as she dared, Naomi slid into her room and closed the door behind herself. She locked it from the inside, slumping to the floor in front of it in a heap of adrenaline and relief.

Was that what ending an argument felt like? Naomi might have done it sooner if she knew it would break one of the threads entangling her heart and mind.

Now, she just had to decide how to deal with the aftermath. Because it would come, in one way or another.