Chapter 83

Annie's POV

I scrolled through my phone as Howard drove us to Brooklyn, trying to think of a gift for my mother. Nothing seemed right.

"I should have brought something," I muttered, tapping my screen harder than necessary.

"Still struggling with gift ideas?" Howard asked.

"Mom hates useless things. Clothes are 'too fancy,' decorations 'collect dust,'and flowers 'just die,"I said, mimicking her matter-of-fact tone.

After another minute of pointless scrolling. I opened my banking app instead. Since starting at Howard Technologies, my bank account had grown more than it ever did during six years with Philip. Between my salary, illustration work, and merchandise sales. I now had money that was actually mine.

I transferred $10,000 to my mother's account and texted her about it. Her immediate response was just a question mark.

I smiled. That was so like her -practical, blunt, and always suspicíous when things came too easily.

"Good news?" Howard asked,catching my smile.

"Just Mom being Mom." I put my phone away. "Money is the only gift she won't complain about." As we parked outside her building, Howard looked at me. "Want me to wait here?" "No,come up." I unbuckled my seatbelt. "I want her to see I'm doing fine."

The truth was, I wanted her to see Howard too. Wanted her to know I hadn't crashed and burned without Philip like she'd feared. I wasn't ready to admit how important Howard had become to me, but bringing him to meet my mother felt like a statement.

I knocked firmly on her door.

"Who is it!" Mom shouted from inside.

"It's me,Mom."

The door flew open, and there stood Ruth Miller, gray hair in a tight bun,wearing the same old sweater I'd seen dozens of times.

"You finally remembered your mother exists?" she said, though her eyes brightened seeing me. She noticed Howard and immediately sized him up."Come in,then."

We followed her inside. The apartment was exactly as I remembered-small,worn,but spotlessly clean, just like Mom herself.

We sat down, Howard and I on the couch, Mom in her old armchair.She kept glancing at Howard but grabbed my hand instead of asking about him.

"You mentioned divorcing Philip last time we talked," she said,squeezing my hand. "Been too busy to call and check. What happened?" My stomach tightened. Mom had always been against divorce - she'd survived as a single mother and didn't want that life for me. In her mind,a woman needed a husband for security.

"I already divorced him, Mom." I couldn't meet her eyes.

She smacked my arm hard enough to leave a mark. "Are you stupid?" Her voice rose to a near-shriek as her face contorted with disbelief. "Now that