Bridgette's POV
"This is truly unbecoming of you!" Aaron continued, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "You are the CEO of ARW..."
For one brief second, I felt a wicked sense of satisfaction dripping down my spine as I watched Aaron scold his oh-so-perfect son like a child. It felt so good, almost poetic. I took great joy in his clenched jaw and flushed face as he stood there, unable to retaliate.
How I wished I could take a picture—maybe ten—so I never forgot this moment. My wicked thoughts were cut short.
"Bridgette," my mother's voice sliced through, sharp and disappointed. "That's enough from you two."
I blinked. "What?" Glancing back, I caught sight of Rhysand's vicious gaze soaked in smugness, and I stepped toward my mother, unwilling to let him hear her scold me.
"This isn't my—"
"I don't care whose fault it was. Your actions were uncalled for," she interrupted, her voice sharp, and I shuffled on my feet.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Aaron walk toward her, wrapping her into a hug, and a wave of sadness settled in my gut.
Margaret leaned into him before turning toward me. "Don't I deserve happiness?" Her voice trembled, her eyes shone. "After all these years of being alone, after raising you all by myself, don't I deserve something for me?"
My throat went dry, and the air felt heavier somehow. Even Rhysand was quiet. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
I didn't like this feeling. I didn't think she would cry. She hadn't cried in so long I'd forgotten she used to do it so often back then.
I struggled to speak, but nothing came out. My head hung, with my fingers squeezed tightly into my skirt.
Aaron sighed. "And you," he shot Rhysand a glare, "stop acting like a damn child."
"Oh please," I muttered under my breath. "He is a child."
"I heard that," Rhysand snapped, spinning back toward me.
"Good," I said, stepping forward. "Want to cry about it?"
"This is why I'm still insistent that this is all your doing—"
"Oh please, like I want to be with you every second of the day."
"Are you both serious right now?" Margaret sighed.
"He started it!" I yelled, pointing right at Rhysand.
Rhysand jabbed his finger right back at me. "What do you mean I started it? You started it!"
"You're unbelievable!"
"You're a menace!"
Aaron groaned, rubbing his temples. "Are you hearing yourselves? You sound like children."
I narrowed my gaze at the insult and threw Rhysand a sharp glare.
Aaron didn't give me time to point fingers, banging the table again, his face unreadable. "Sit down, both of you!"
Rhysand didn't move, neither did I, but Margaret gave me a sharp look that had kept me in line throughout my high school years.
"Sit, Bridgette."
With a huff, I did her bidding, but not before stepping on Mr. Grumpy's toes to get to my chair. I took sick pleasure in hearing him squirm.
His father cleared his throat, stopping his outburst, and signaled for him to sit. With a disgruntled sigh, he fell into his seat, and we both fell silent.
Aaron arched his brows at our actions, his lips twitching in amusement.
"For what it's worth, you both act similarly, almost like siblings," he joked, looking at Mom for support, but cleared his throat when Margaret shot him a familiar sharp look.
"You two have made your opinions clear. But this is not about you. This is about two grown adults who have found each other after years of loneliness. You don't have to like it. You don't even have to support it. But what you will not do is ruin it."
For the first time since I'd arrived, I finally saw the shadow of the man who had single-handedly conquered the New York market, and for a second I was awed.
The mirage was broken when he clapped, his lips switching back into the goofy smile. "Now, why don't we start over again?"
Mom nodded her head and leaned into him, smiling more brightly than before. Rhysand didn't react, his eyes pinned on his father and his silly smile.
Aaron didn't seem to mind; his eyes sparkled.
"I'll go first. I'm Aaron Warner, founder and ex-CEO of—"
"We know who you are," I interrupted, not even trying to be polite. Rhysand shot me a deadly glare, but I ignored him.
Margaret rested her hand on Aaron's. "This is Bridgette, my only daughter. Brilliant, beautiful, and now I find her to be stubborn."
"We also know that," I said with a pout, this time my voice lower than I'd intended.
She smiled at me, and the corners of her eyes softened. "She's just looking out for me, that's all."
I sighed, turning away as Aaron chuckled under his breath and said, "That sounds exactly like Rhysand."
The two of them shared a look. I couldn't stand how their eyes sparkled—laughing, touching, and finishing each other's thoughts. It didn't sit well with me, and yet I felt something strange. How long had it been since I'd seen my mom so giddy?
She looked alive. She looked loved.
And for the first time tonight, I wondered if I had overreacted.
Maybe it was time to let her be happy, even if it was with Rhysand's father. I guess he had nothing to lose.
I forced myself to smile. "Well, congratulations," I said, raising my glass. "You've shocked us both—not that I speak for him—but if this is what makes you happy, then I guess I'll have to accept it."
Aaron smiled. Margaret's eyes welled up.
But of course, Rhysand, like the ass he kept proving himself to be, wouldn't let us have one nice moment.
"I'm sorry," he said, pushing back his chair. "But no. I won't support this."
The entire table went still.
Aaron's face twisted with frustration. "Rhys—"
"No," Rhysand cut in, his eyes blazing. "This isn't right. I can't support this!"
Margaret stiffened, and I felt my fists clench.
"Excuse me?" I seethed, standing to meet his gaze. "Are you saying my mother isn't good enough?"
He avoided my gaze.
"Say it," I challenged him, stepping closer. "You think she's beneath your father? Is that it?"
Rhysand gave me a cutting glare before walking out.
Aaron rose, ready to go after him, but I raised a hand. "Don't," I said gently. "I'll talk to him."
He hesitated. Margaret looked worried.
I gave them a small smile. "This is your celebration. You deserve to be loved. Besides..." I grinned. "I want to have a chat with my soon-to-be brother."
This seemed to soothe Aaron, and he nodded, sinking back down. Margaret squeezed his hand, then gave me a grateful look.
I turned toward the door, just in time for my grin to drop.
Brother? Oh please, more like future pain in the neck.
The farther I walked away from the happy couple, the deeper my thoughts became. I couldn't say I blamed Rhysand for his actions and words since I felt the same, but it would be a cold day in hell if I ever agreed with him. Besides, making my mother happy was a bonus that surpassed his stupid face.