The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

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With Logan’s tongue in my mouth and his hands creeping up the inside of my blouse, it was easy to ignore the ringing of my phone the first time. Even the second time.

The third, fourth, fifth, sixth times were much harder to ignore.

By the seventh, Logan leaned up onto his elbows, away from me. The heat in his eyes was dimming. I understood. That ringing was ruining the mood if nothing else. But there was also the possibility that it could be an emergency.

“Better check,” Logan said.

I sighed. “Yeah” Internally, I began a silent mantra, a prayer: Please don’t let this be another emergency. Over and over again, I prayed. Please, please, please.

Logan sat back, off of me, and I rolled out from under him. My phone was in my purse on the kitchen island. Digging through it, I found my phone.

The caller ID on the screen said the person calling was.. my mother?

She hadn’t contacted me once since my moving out on my own. After learning how our parents had kicked out Natalie after the reveal that she and I had been adopted, I hadn’t expected to hear from them. either. I thought they would be well and truly out of my life for good.

The ringing stopped as the call was sent to voicemail. Immediately, the phone started ringing again.

“Who is it?” Logan asked. He’d risen from the couch and was slowly approaching me.

I held out the phone so he could see the screen.

“Ignore it,” Logan said, but I wasn’t as sure.

Maybe something had happened to them or to Natalie Maybe Mr. Hatfield Senior was threatening them in some way.

They were terrible people who treated me with malice for most, if not all, of my childhood.

But they were still the only parents that I knew.

My feelings were complicated.

“I’m going to answer it,” I told Logan so he wouldn’t be surprised.

Even as his face hardened, he nodded, ever supportive of my choices.”

Tanswered the phone. “Hello? What is it? What’s wrong?

“Oh, Hazel, thank God,” Mom said. With her voice that crackly, I was likely on speakerphone.

When Dad’s voice chimed in, I knew for a fact I was. “Hazel. There you are.”

“I kept thinking something must be wrong with your phone.” Mom said. “I knew my darling daughter would

waiting like this…”

never leave her mothe

Darling daughter?

“This is Hazel,” I reminded them. “Did you mean to call Natalie?”

“Oh, heaven’s no,” Mom replied.

“She is no longer our daughter,” Dad added.

“We made a mistake, favoring her,” Mom said. “The one we should have been favoring is you.”

Hearing her say that was like a dream come true for the version of my younger self that still lived inside of me. How many years did I hope and pray that my parents would realize my value? That they would turn around and love me as much as they seemed to love my sister.

So many nights as a child, I would cry myself to sleep. Wishing, begging, hoping.

Now it was happening, so many years too late, and I hated how even a small part of me was pleased with their reversal. As an adult, however, with years of heartache under my belt, I knew there had to be more to

this

Something must have happened to get them to turn around on their beliefs.

“You know I’m adopted,” I said, reminding them. This was the reason they pushed Natalie away. Or, at least, the reason they claimed to. “That hasn’t changed”

“Obviously we know we adopted you,” Mom said, just as Dad said, “We remember.”

Mom cleared her throat. “We’ve let these differences between us stretch on too long. That’s why we wanted to call. We’ve turned over a new leaf. Looking back, we can see how hard on you we were, Hazel. We just want to make amends.”