And suddenly, I knew exactly what was about to happen.
I shot to my feet.
“NO!”
The word came out louder than I intended.
Every face in the room turned toward me.
Grant froze with the champagne glass still in his hand.
Vanessa stared at me.
“What?” she asked.
I looked at my son.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret because you’re angry.”
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Grant set the glass down.
“I’m not angry because of one thing, Mom.”
His voice was quiet.
That frightened me more than shouting would have.
Vanessa stood beside him.
“Grant, what are you doing?”
He looked at her.
“I’m finally talking.”
Her expression changed.
“Then maybe we should talk privately.”
“No.”
The room went still again.
Grant glanced toward me.
“I’ve been doing everything privately for two years.”
My stomach tightened.
Vanessa reached for his arm, but he stepped away.
