Mama’s Boy by Avery Flynn
Chapter Fifty-Six
Dixon
Loved him? Fiona knew he’d heard that lie before from Nicole, and the fact that she’d say it just went to show how deep she was willing to stick that knife. Fine. Two could and would play at that game, and he sure as hell would win at any cost.
“It sure is funny how you’re laser-focused on my need to win but can’t see that you keep trying to pretend you’re someone else because you can’t stand to be yourself. Why is that?”
She started, the blood draining from her face. “Fuck you, Dixon.”
“Struck a nerve, huh? Then let me tell you more.” It was awful, every word out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. If he didn’t do this, didn’t run up the score and obliterate any chance of her coming back into his life, then he would lose for sure.
He’d lose, not just a bet but his pride, his self-respect, his ability to not live a lie. It would be Nicole all over again. He had to finish it.
“You talk about how you can’t trust your instincts when it comes to people, but, really, you don’t trust yourself. That’s why you’re working at the private school instead of starting the charter school you really want to do. It’s why you won’t commit to buying your apartment even though you can afford it and you know the landlord is just going to jack up your rent each year. You don’t believe in yourself enough to go for the win, to be the Fiona Hartigan you really are.”
The unshed tears that had been making her dark eyes so shiny spilled over, but she didn’t make a move to wipe them away. Instead, her chin went up another few degrees. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ll fight tooth and nail to get Nana a foot in the door at Beckett Cosmetics, but you won’t fight even a little bit for yourself—not for the job you want or even the apartment you know you could have. Why? Because you don’t have any faith in yourself.”
“Shut up, Dixon,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just stop.”
No, he couldn’t. Not until he’d gone too far, because already he was aching, his entire body rebelling from putting an end to this.
“You talk about your questionable instincts, how people take advantage—and look what you do when you get half a chance. Is a manipulator who the real Fiona is after all? Well, fuck me sideways—I should have known. A competitor always recognizes their match.” He laughed, leaning into the part he had to play even at the ashen look on her face, the way she was biting down so hard on her trembling lip that she was going to make it bleed. “Maybe you should just go all-in on this New Fiona bullshit you’re always talking about. She seems to fit who you really are.”
“That’s not who I am,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion that had turned her cheeks bright pink and had made her eyes wet with unshed tears.
“Then who are you?” he asked, his voice barely above a hard, harsh whisper. “Who are you really? Do you even fucking know?”
He was breathing hard, but there weren’t any more words. This was it, he could tell by the way she’d gone still in her seat. Her cheeks were wet, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Pain, dark and as dangerous as a rusty knife, danced across his skin, every nerve alight with agony of his own making. For a second, he thought she’d crack, break down right there.
But she didn’t. Instead, she looked at him with all the recriminations he’d seen when he’d looked in the mirror before leaving for this date.
“Well, there is one thing I do know, Dixon Beckett,” she said as she swiped the half-empty champagne bottle out of the ice bucket. “You really are a loser.”
Then she marched out of the theater without looking back, not even once. He knew because he watched her every step until she was out of his life forever—exactly like he wanted.
