She still remained on her chair.

I tilted my chin up. "Do you know what's happened to my life?"

She made a disgusted sound and hissed at the same time. "Are we back to this? You knew my marriage wasn't working out. You should be happy for me, Samantha."

"Happy?" My voice cooled. "It happened a week ago."

"Would you rather I were in an unhappy marriage?"

"How could I tell? You were fake all the time."

Her eyes threatened to bulge out and she sucked in a dramatic breath. When she talked, it was forcibly controlled, "What are you talking about?"

"You're the fakest person I know. Why are you really pissed off? Is it because I missed your precious family dinner?"

"I'm fake?" She started to stand up.

My eyes went flat. "So much that I can't stand being fake. I'm real all the time, mom. Congratulations. I have no friends because of it."

"I'm fake?"

"This is news to you?" I laughed as she drew closer.

There was a stillness to my mother. Her anger was so vivid, but I was past caring. My body ached. My hands hurt. And I was tired, so tired of everything.

She stopped in front of me.

I met her gaze and my hands formed into fists. "What do you want? Tell me what you want me to say so I can go to sleep."

Her voice grew soft. "You missed dinner tonight."

"We're back to this?" I mocked her. "Your precious dinner?"

"It was an important dinner."

"I highly doubt it." I started to leave, but she caught my arm.

She hissed, "I am talking to you."

"Not anymore. I'm moving out as soon as I'm eighteen. That's all you need to hear from me."

"What?" she gasped.

"Reality check, mom. This is your life. This is your boyfriend. I don't want any part of it. I want to be home with dad again. I want to move in with him."

"You. Will. Not. Live. With. Him." She had to take breaths to calm down. Her arms started to tremble, her chin was rattled. Her eyes clung to mine in a beseeching manner, torn between pleading and commanding.

"Why not?" I tested her. "He is my father, right?"

Her mouth shut in a firm line.

"Doesn't he have some right to see me? Don't I have a right to see him? Why is it always your way? You didn't give me any choice. You said we're moving and we did, just like that. We moved because you said so. Well I don't want to be here. I don't want to be a part of your boyfriend's family. This is your thing, not mine."

"You are my daughter."

"Am I? Are you sure? How many nights have we eaten together since the move?"

"I wanted—"

"It would've been once, tonight. And that's because it's what you wanted, not me. You've stopped being my mom the second we moved in here. The only role you fulfill is his girlfriend as the wannabe wife of James Kade."

Analise went white around her mouth. Her arms jerked up in balls, but she forced them back down. Her arms shook and her hands started to tremble. She choked out, "You will respect me—"

"Where's my respect? As your daughter, don't I get respect?"

"I am your mother—"

"I wish you weren't—"

She slapped me. The force of her palm pushed me back a few steps and I cradled my cheek as I whirled back to her. She stood there, ashen in the face and with her hand still in the air. The palm was spread out and she looked from her hand to me in disbelief.

The pain was numbing. And a part of me wanted more, but I said, "If you slap me again, I'll hit you back."

"Samantha…" She darted towards me.

I jerked away and retreated to a far wall.

"I…" Her eyes kept spinning around the room, from me to her, to her hand, and back to her feet. "I…" Then her face cleared and she looked back up. She spoke in a calmed voice, too calm. "The dinner tonight was important to me."

I narrowed my eyes.

She swallowed and hung her head again. "I wanted you there."

"You want to know where I was?" I didn't wait for her answer. "Running. I've gone running almost every day since we got here. I run until my body can't take anymore and then I go to sleep and I get up, go to school, and I can't wait until I can do it all again. I don't want to feel anything, mom, because sooner or later, we're going to be out of here. Have you thought about that? What happens when he breaks up with you?"

"We're getting married."

I hesitated for a beat. "And I repeat, what happens when he breaks up with you?"

"Didn't you hear me? James proposed to me. We announced it tonight at dinner."

"Oh," I bit out. "Well, then I'm so sorry your daughter wasn't there to represent your side of the family. He had his two sons, right? Their friend too?"

Her eyes narrowed again and she was still, so still.

I laughed, mocking. "And you looked at your side of the table and there was my empty chair. You were humiliated, weren't you?"

"Yes." Her teeth were gritted together.

"I'm humiliated every day we're here. I'm humiliated you left dad for this—"

"You will watch your words."

"I won't. Why should I? You don't watch yours." I pressed a fist into the side of my face. My hand had grown numb and I laughed. It rumbled from the bottom of my stomach and gurgled out. The sound sent chills down my own spine. "I love you. I'm divorcing you." A pause. I glanced up and held her eyes. "Your father loves you."

Her eyes went wide and she paled again. This time she was as white as a sheet.

I let out a deep breath, one to calm me, but the storm started to take over. "Your father will always love you. I'll always love you. I'll protect you. I'll put you first in my life." My mouth twisted into an ugly smile. "It was all lies, wasn't it, Analise?"

"You know," she breathed out. She looked horrified.

"Why are you marrying him? You just want to find a new daddy for me? David couldn't keep lying to me anymore?"

"That wasn't….this isn't…Oh, Samantha…" A sob came from her.