His Shortcake

Chapter 46

: This will be a little confusing. Bear with me. :

Dustyn Franco

"I'm going to go outside for a while," Mara said softly, setting her glass down with a soft clink on the table as she grabbed her purse.

I glanced up at her, the crease in my brow deepening. "Are you okay?"

She smiled, but it wasn't the kind that lit up the room like it usually did. This one felt distant, like she was there in front of me but her thoughts were somewhere else, tangled in something I couldn't see. "Of course, I just need some air," she replied, her voice light, yet there was a weight in it—something unsaid.

I nodded, though something tugged at me. Before she could turn to leave, I reached out and caught her by the hand, pulling her gently back towards me. Without much hesitation, I kissed her—slow and soft, just enough to make her cheeks flush that familiar, lovely shade of red. When I pulled back, her lips parted slightly, and I smirked at the sight.

"Happy Birthday, shortcake," I murmured, my voice low.

Her eyes flickered down, and for a moment, she seemed even more distant, as though the kiss had stirred a thought or memory she didn't want to share. "Y-yeah. Thanks," she stammered, her voice hurried. With a quick step, she turned and headed for the door, her heels clicking softly against the floor.

I smiled, watching her walk away, savoring the moment. Alec was still deep in conversation with some guests, oblivious. I was grateful—grateful for those fleeting moments alone with her, grateful for how beautiful she always looked when she was shy and flustered.

"I saw that," came Mom's voice from behind me, her teasing tone jolting me out of my thoughts. She chuckled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm glad you're happy, Dustyn."

I smiled, glancing at her. "I'm always happy when I'm with her," I said, the honesty of the words settling between us.

Mom's expression softened, a look of understanding crossing her face. "I know that, sweetie. I'm your mother. I can tell."

I hesitated, my smile faltering slightly as something gnawed at me. "Then why did you hate her so much before?" I asked. It wasn't an accusation, just a question that had lingered for a long time. I knew Mom had come around, but there were so many moments in the past where her coldness toward Mara was hard to ignore.

Her smile wavered, turning sad, a flicker of regret in her eyes. "I was scared," she admitted quietly, her voice softer now. "I didn't want you, Mara, or even Alec to end up hurt... or worse, hating each other."

I frowned, my confusion evident. "Mom, that's a really stupid reason, you know that?"

She laughed lightly, her hand coming up to gently slap my arm. "Yes, I know. But your father and I... we were friends. Childhood friends. We never really thought we'd end up married, but there were times—rough times—when I really hated him. There was a point when I wanted nothing to do with him at all." She paused, her eyes distant for a moment, as though reliving some old memory. "Honestly, Dustyn, if it weren't for you, I would've divorced your father."

Her words hit me like a slow, unexpected punch. I glanced around at the guests outside, still mingling and laughing in the backyard, as if the weight of her confession hadn't just settled between us. "But that would never happen to Mara and me," I said, my voice firmer than I intended.

Mom sighed, her expression soft but filled with a quiet sorrow. "I was irrational," she admitted. "I knew your love for Mara was real, and I didn't want you to lose her. But people make mistakes—stupid, thoughtless mistakes—when they're in a relationship, and sometimes, those mistakes are enough to ruin everything. To make you lose the one person who matters most."