Free The Test by Ava Claire Page B

she was heard,
respected; she always made sure the world knew that even though her
name wasn’t Rhyder Woods, she still had something to offer. That
was why her dismissal of my thoughts and opinions hurt so much.
Instead of hearing me out, she held tight to what Chance had done.
She didn’t let me explain that I wasn’t taking his cheating lightly
and when I tried to open up, I was met with animosity and judgment.
Instead of supporting me, she became the people she hated—those
that forgot she was a beast in the courtroom, only seeing a
homemaker, a pretty face to be seen and not heard.
    The floor creaked as she took a wary step in
my direction. “The door was unlocked.”
    I finished stuffing my underwear in my
overnight bag, holding tight to the hurt as the zipper sliced
closed. “I’m on my way out.”
    “Cass we really need to talk--”
    “Is that right? Because you’ve been trying to
do anything but since I tried to talk to you about Chance.” I slung
the strap over my shoulder and jerked my charger from the wall.
“You peeled out of the parking lot when you found us here together
and then at dinner, you said nothing while Alicia pretty much spat
in his face.” I sucked in a deep breath and faced her. “He didn’t
deserve that. I didn’t deserve it.”
    Her brow furrowed in distaste. “He didn’t
deserve it? Let’s get one thing straight. You are my
priority. I could care less what Chance Crawford deserves.”
    “Oh I get it.” I pretended like it was all
coming to me, sarcasm on full blast. “When you said you wanted to
talk, what you really meant was you wanted to come here and tell me
how stupid and naive I am.”
    “Cassie--”
    “I’ve got to go.” I maneuvered past her, my
chest tight. This was too much, falling from cloud nine and
crashing back to earth where I had to explain myself, trying to put
the most beautiful thing in my life into words. And it would be
wasted because she wouldn’t really hear me. She refused to.
    “Please,” she implored. “Five minutes.”
    The pleading in her voice stopped me cold. It
revealed an exposed wound, throbbing and pulsing. She sounded
vulnerable—I never heard that from my mother. And then she said the
last thing on earth I expected.
    “I’m sorry.”
    I spun to face her, surprised I didn’t get
whiplash. I didn’t know what to say.
    “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “You’re right, I
didn’t listen to you.” Her jaw tightened. “And I was rude to
Chance.”
    I gripped the overnight bag so tight that my
nails cut into my palm. “You’re sorry?”
    She gave me a small nod. “I am.”
    I felt my body unwinding, the aggression
seeping out of me like air from a balloon. Now that she said the
words, that she meant it, I felt like a weight was lifted from my
chest. From my heart.
    She stood awkwardly in front of the coffee
table, smoothing the front of her skirt. “The place looks
good.”
    The side of my mouth twitched. I knew that
was quite the compliment considering she’d threatened to wear a
Hazmat suit on several occasions.
    “I figured it was time for a change.” I
readjusted the strap on my shoulder. “I don’t even get to
appreciate it because I--” I trailed off, realizing the last thing
she probably wanted to hear about was the fact that I’d been
shacking up with Chance. She’d already apologized and I knew how
rare that was. I didn’t want to rub her nose in it.
    She offered a smile. “It’s okay, Cass. You’re
an adult, making adult decisions.”
    I took another step toward her, not sure if I
wanted to hug her or check her temperature. Who was this
understanding person and what had she done with the Ice Queen my
mother had been lately?
    “Can I tell you a story?”
    I gave her a look. “Chance is waiting
outside--”
    “It’s a short story,” she cut in. “I had a
friend who was in love with this man. I say man because she was
barely out of college when they met and he was...older.”
    I leaned against the