~Chapter 28~

Finally, it was Christmas Day. Surprisingly, the morning went rather well and most people seemed very happy with the gifts they had received. Not to brag but I think I gave out the best gifts.

Zack and I always used to compete about who was the superior gift giver and the lack of that competition this year throbbed like a dull ache in my chest, constant and never-ending.

I did my best to push the thoughts away. Zack wouldn't want me to be upset, especially today. It was his favourite holiday after all. I had half a mind to think that he would personally come back from the dead to kill me if I didn't enjoy myself today so I put on my best smile and tried my hardest to converse with everyone like normal over lunch.

Uncle Mitchell, my dad's half brother, had been invited to join the festivities as well and he definitely added a spark of brightness to the house which had been missing. There really was no one better to add that shine than my uncle.

Uncle Mitch was ten years younger than dad and the product of my grandad's second marriage after his first wife died as collateral in a bank robbery when dad was a child. His new wife, Maya, was a ray of sunshine and she'd definitely passed that joy down to Uncle Mitch. The man was always smiling or had a stupid joke to tell. At forty, I was certainly surprised that he was still a bachelor.

She was Spanish so had given him his tanned skin and brown eyes with small flecks of green that were so different from dad's electric blue ones.

Lunch had gone surprisingly well as well. Mother hadn't made a single snide comment about anyone over lunch — in fact, she'd been civil for the entire time I'd been home — which I was shocked about, to say the least. Maybe I was slightly harsh in my perception of her but I held so much bitterness towards her that it was hard not to.

Dad had a smile on his face the entire day, the first I'd seen since Zack's passing and it was the best sight I'd witnessed in months. I looked up to my father. He'd stayed strong in so many impossible situations and somehow even managed to patch up his relationship with mother despite all they'd been through.

He was smart, kind, funny and, above all, the best man I knew. I'd gotten him a pair of custom silver cuff links shaped like our family's company logo (interlocking twin crowns) for Christmas with Zack's initials — Z.K. — engraved on them and I could've sworn I saw a tear slip down his cheek as he had hugged me, understanding the emotion and hidden message in my gift instantly.

Dad was a stoic man. He'd never been one to display much affection but the care he held for his children was obvious. Despite the fact I liked to believe I was his favourite, he was remarkably close to Zack as well. Although it was Nathan who was going to take over the company, Zack had worked with dad the closest on it for the past four and a half years.

As soon as he'd finished school, he'd joined dad in running the company. He had attended all the import business meetings and helped revolutionise the brand. In fact, it was Zack who had overseen and redone all of our marketing and given the brand the new fresh feeling it needed. He was the one who'd drawn up the initial concept for the interlocking twin crown logo we now used.

As much as Zack didn't like to believe it, he was extremely talented. He was sharp, creative and observant with a knack for leadership. He was so good, in fact, that I had a feeling dad might've given the company to him instead of Nathan but I doubted Zack would've accepted. He'd said countless times how he couldn't see himself running a business and that it was all much too corporate for his tastes yet I still felt like he would've thrived in a creative position.

If given the opportunity, Zack and Nathan could've worked side by side with Zack handling the brand's image and the creative side and Nathan managing the business and corporate side. Yet that prospect had been ripped away and I knew dad felt that harsh truth too. He wanted that for his sons; his two eldest working together was his dream deep down, one he couldn't have for himself because of the age gap and stark differences between him and Uncle Mitch.

I shook my head as I picked up wrapping paper from the ground in the living room, trying to erase the thoughts. I couldn't think of Zack anymore today otherwise I'd have another breakdown.

A soft knocking on the door brought me fully out of my thoughts. Mother stood in the doorway, holding a rubbish bag with some wrapping already stuffed inside of it. "Need a hand?"

I nodded and she silently strode over to help me tidy up. Our relationship had never been great but I knew she cared about me deep down and just didn't know how to express it most of the time.

"How have you been, darling?" she finally asked in a soft voice, breaking the silence.

I shrugged, not looking up to meet her stormy eyes which I knew were staring intently at me. "Not great." Sharing emotions was hard enough but sharing them with mother was harder still.

She let out a long breath, picking up another piece of glittery wrapping paper. "Me neither. It still does not feel real."

"I doubt it ever will." I finally looked at mother, really looked at her. She appeared downtrodden and gloomy as you'd expect — especially when this holiday, above all, made us all think so clearly of Zack — yet there was something else there. Something she was hiding.

A chilly wind pricked at the back of my neck from the open window behind me. I stood up straighter, shielding the bare skin with my hair. "What is it, mother?"

She shifted on her feet as she tied a knot in the top of the now-full bin bag. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't bother, mother. Say what it is you're clearly trying to keep hidden. It's written all over your face." I was shocked by my own words. Never did I speak so bluntly with her.

"Oh I do wish you would call me mum instead of mother," she grumbled, sitting down on the cream sofa.

"What's wrong with mother?" I asked, humouring her even though I was well aware she was trying to change the subject.

"It sounds so detached and uncaring. It is as if you resent me."

It took everything within me not to scoff. "Perhaps I do."

Her spine went rigid, her posture more perfect than I'd ever seen it which I hadn't believed was possible until now. "Explain."

It was my turn to sit down; if we were actually going to have this conversation it'd take all my strength to get through it in one piece. Opting for the matching cream sofa opposite the one mother was perched on, I took in a deep breath. "What is there to explain, mother? I think it's quite obvious."

Her jaw set. "Watch your tone, Harper. But humour me, explain."

Did she genuinely not understand all that she had afflicted on me? Was she that dense?

"Where should I start?" I mused, not caring about the warning look she shot me at my snarky tone. "How about the millions of insecurities festering inside of me because of things you've said. 'I wish you weren't so boyish, Harper'; 'why weren't you born blonde? It'd be a far better colour on you'; 'speak properly when you talk you're starting to sound uneducated. I didn't send you to private school for you to throw your life away like this'; 'don't forget to cover your freckles, darling. They unbalance your face'; 'we're starting a dieting plan for you next week; your face is looking too round'; 'you're much too pale, Harper, so it looks like you might have to start fake tanning soon'..."

I watched mother's reaction, hoping to see at least a sliver of regret but her face remained as hard as stone. "Should I continue?"

"Harper Anastasia King," she said, her voice cutting. "Everything I have ever done was for your benefit. I have always had your best interests at heart and now you are trying to twist my words to make me come across as the villain. Have you no decency?"

This time I did scoff. "My benefit?"

"Yes, your benefit." She crossed her arms, her stormy eyes not faltering. "Look at your career, Harper. I did it all for your career. I know how the industry works and did what was necessary for you to flourish. Yes, it may have meant I was particularly harsh at times but it was never with a malicious intent and you are very much aware of that. Do not act as though you are not.

"I am not the monster, Harper. Your entire life you have painted me this way, putting your father on a pedestal and thinking of me as the devil you could never escape. I'm not oblivious. I just wish you would understand. One of us had to play the stricter parent and unfortunately, I got stuck with the role. I did not like seeing you upset, I still do not regardless of what you may believe. You are my daughter and I love you immensely. Can you not see that everything I have done is because I care?"

I took a few moments for mother's words to sink in. Of course I understood where she was coming from. I'd always known that she'd done all she had for the good of my career but that wasn't the point.

"Mother, I understand that; I always have but you're missing the bigger picture. Growing up, it felt as though my career was all that mattered to you and I didn't. We never spent time together that wasn't work-related and you used to nitpick about everything I did even if it wouldn't affect my career. How would preferring to watch action movies over romances cause any harm? How would having a lie in once a month jeopardise whole future? The things you've said and how you've treated me have affected me psychologically, in a way I can't mend. I'm damaged, mother. I'm broken."

I couldn't help the tears that escaped my eyes at the words. It was true. I'd been raised to feel insecure about any slight imperfection I possessed and even to feel conscious about things that weren't necessarily abnormal but didn't fit mother's vision. It had caused this wound I couldn't mend and with every passing day it was getting harder and harder to patch up. Without Zack, it was next to impossible.

Mother's arms fell to her sides as she regarded me silently for a very long while. We simply stared at each other, neither of us speaking as mother took me in, analysing me and all the raw emotion I was displaying. Eventually, she said, "I did not mean for that, sweetheart. You know that. I just wanted what was best for you. And do not say you are broken, please. You are not, darling. You are perfect. So much more perfect than I could have ever dreamed."

The air left my lungs. Mother never pleaded. Mother never praised me. Mother never sounded so vulnerable. "What?"

She hesitated, looking very much out of her depth as she tried to find the right words. "I know I do not say it often and perhaps I should change that about myself but you are wonderful, Harper. You truly are. I have never seen someone with as much strength and determination as you possess. Your character is so strong and even with all I have said you have never once let yourself falter. You have always been authentically you and I'm proud of you, darling. I've been proud of you since you took your very first breath, opened your eyes for the first time, spoke your first words 'ZaZa' — for Zack — I was even proud when you threw your food at me for the first time when I fed you. I have never not been proud of you."

A single tear slipped down her cheek but she continued, smiling at me in a way I hadn't witnessed in the longest time. "You are perfect in every sense of the word, Harper, and I would not change a single thing about you. I know I say otherwise a lot but I'm just fussing and nitpicking because I'm always thinking about your career but I know I should act like your mother rather than a manager and I will try and work on it as long as you promise me one thing."

"What?" I asked, barely able to get the question out as I stared at the woman before me in shock. Who was she and what had she done with the mother I knew?

She stood up, dusting off her skirt and walked over to me, kneeling in front of me and clutching my hands tightly in her perfectly manicured ones. "Promise me you will never think of yourself as damaged or broken. You are not, not at all. I'm sorry my words affected you the way they have; that was never my intention. I went about everything in the wrong way. I have failed you as a mother and I shall hold myself accountable for my actions. I'm sorry, Harper. I'm so very sorry."

I didn't know what to say. For once, mother had rendered me speechless. Nothing felt real.

Mother had said she loved me, that she was proud of me, that she thought I was perfect the way I was. Those were words I'd been yearning to hear since childhood and she'd said them of her own accord. "Do you mean it?" I rasped out.

She nodded. "Every word."

"Even my weight?"

"What about it?"

"You don't think I'm fat?" I asked so quietly I was surprised she heard.

Momentarily, her eyes flitted downwards as if with guilt. "You are not fat, Harper. I'm sorry I keep mentioning the dieting idea. It was something I forced myself to do a lot when I was younger out of fear of being too big for the industry and I suppose I have been projecting my own insecurities onto you slightly."

What? Mother was insecure about her weight? That didn't make sense to me in the slightest. She had the perfect body; there was honestly no competition. "But you're not big. Not even remotely."

She smiled weakly at me. "True but that does not stop the press from calling me such things every chance they have. I know it is just to bring me down but eventually the words do start to get to you."

"The press doesn't bother me much. They're always spewing bullshit. It's when people I know say it that it hurts," I told her and she winced.

I didn't look at her as I carried on, feeling ashamed of what I was about to say, of displaying such vulnerability to her. "Moira's been calling me fat a lot and it's been affecting me, much more than I care to admit."

"Moira Ross?"

I nodded. "Well, she is completely out of her mind if she thinks that. Your body is right just the way it is. If you would like, I can pull a few strings and she will never receive another opportunity to model again?" mother offered but I shook my head.

"No. Let's not go that far," I said, surprised by every word she had said. As long as she didn't think it was true. I wasn't fat?

I wasn't fat.

I simply couldn't comprehend everything mother was saying to me. I couldn't understand it all. "Why the change of heart?"

"There has never been a change of heart, darling. I have always felt this way but I suppose Zackary's death has put it all into perspective for me. I know he left this world not knowing how much I cared for him and I refuse to let another of my children feel that way. I know I have not been the best mother but I want to right my wrongs. I want to fix our relationship."

I couldn't help the next words from blurting out of my mouth. "What about dad?"

She seemed confused, moving to sit next to me on the sofa. "What about him?"

"Are you going to fix your relationship with him?"

She stiffened. "Harper, our relationship is... well it is complicated."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I do. I would not have married the man otherwise," she said with a bemused smile.

"Then what's the problem?"

She sighed. "I wish it were that simple, Harper, but the problems in our marriage go back decades. There is no easy fix."

"No one ever said love was easy," I pointed out, shifting in my seat so I could look at her properly. I'd never seen mother act so open and honest before. It was a refreshing sight and made her seem human, like she was actually my mother.

She laced her manicured fingers together. "There is more to it, Harper. Things I cannot talk about. There have been too many mistakes. There is quite simply no hope."

I could feel my irritation flare slightly — she was obviously keeping something from him — but I did my best to push it back and talk to her gently. I didn't want to ruin a potentially good relationship with my mother before it even had the chance to bloom.

"Mother, what are you hiding from him?"

"Nothing," she said much too quickly.

"Please don't lie to me."

"It... it does not matter."

"Yes, it does."

"Just leave it, Harper," she said, her tone sharper than before but I wasn't going to back down.

"No, mother. We're finally building a relationship together and I won't let you shut me out. What is it? Just tell me, please."

"I cannot. You will hate me. He will hate me." Sadness and fear took over her features, shining mother in a light I'd never seen before. Her displaying so much emotion was throwing me for a loop and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

"Don't be ridiculous dad dotes over you even after all that's happened. He could never hate you so just tell me."

"I cannot."

"Mother—"

"I cannot," she snapped.

"Don't do this. Don't push me away."

"Harper, I can't," she said more softly but her voice cracked.

"What could possibly be so bad?"

"It... it is the twins," she finally yielded, not daring to look at me. "They are Mitchell's kids, not your father's."

~*~*~

... so that happened.

What do you guys think of the story so far? I'd love to know your thoughts. Also, any opinions on Harper and her relationship with her mum after hearing Camilla's perspective?

Side note but another weekly upload? I'm on a roll right now.

(Ps. There's only three chapters and an epilogue left guys so the story is nearly over. Hopefully you've all enjoyed the book so far.)

Until next time my amazing readers, stay safe xx