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“He’s done, Ruth. I won’t put up with it anymore. I’m done hiding your dirty little mistake.”

“The only mistake I’ve ever made was you,” she slurs.

“Oh please, you don’t even remember most of your mistakes, you’re too fucking drunk,” Dad mutters. He’s taken a handkerchief out of his pocket and is trying to staunch the blood. It seems to be at least slowing it down.

I barely resist the urge to hit him again.

“You’ll drop this before you do more damage and if you ever lay a finger on my son again, I’ll see you out in the streets.”

“You won’t see to anything Ruth. Go climb back in the bottom of your bottle. We both know that’s where you’re the happiest,” Dad mocks.

Mom brings back her arm and hurls her glass at Dad. It goes wide but slams against the wall not too far from him, ice and liquor splashing out. The glass got remarkably close considering it’s probably true that Mom is inebriated.

“It’s where I go to forget I’m married to a monster,” she cries out. “You’re not cutting my son off. You’re not touching him again, or I’ll make you sorry.”

“Always taking up for him. He’s a waste of good air and I’m done trying to be a father to your dirty little—”

“Stop it!” Mom screams. I stand there, watching them and I’m confused, but deep down something starts to unfurl inside of me. Realization is dawning on me and I can’t even tell you I’m surprised.

Maybe I’m relieved.

“Stop what? You don’t want your son to know the truth?”

“Stop!” she cries again.

“Know what? What don’t I know?” I ask, ready to finish this.

Mom looks at me, crying. I can see the truth in her face. Dad is looking at me with more hate than I’ve ever seen. It’s always been there. He’s giving it all now and he’s not masking it at all.

“You’re not mine. Your mother slept with the hired help. I guess that’s where you get your taste in women. You’re just following the footsteps of your mother,” Dad—the man I’ve always thought of as my dad—says.

“Mom?” I ask, a sense of surrealism moving over me. I’m standing here, but it feels like I’m watching all of this unfold more than taking part.

“I’m sorry, Mike. I never wanted you to know,” she whimpers.

“Who was it?”

“Mike—”

“Who was it?” I growl, not feeling sympathy for her. My dad—Arthur—is laughing, and the twisted glee on his face is practically glowing.

“Mike you have to understand—”

“Who was it?” I question again, my voice cold and thick like steel.

“Walters,” Arthur answers, when it’s clear Mom won’t. My gaze snaps over to him as he essentially tells me a name that I don’t even know. “You look so stupid right now. Of course, you don’t know him. He left the minute he found out he knocked her up. He used to do our landscaping,” Arthur laughs. “He took the ten thousand I gave him and left town without looking back. See, Mike? You were worthless from the beginning. Walters didn’t even try to ask for more. He took whatever I gave him and hit the road.”

Mom’s crying in the background. I can’t look at her. I don’t want to look at either of them ever again.

“I’m out of here.”

“You’re cut off. I’m not giving you one more dime,” Arthur announces, but I don’t stop walking. I make it to the door.

“My son will have anything he asks for. You forget one thing Arthur. I’m the one that brought money into this marriage. You were just the ambitious little boy without a penny to his name that worked for my father. You lay one finger on Mike again, or he tells me that you haven’t paid for anything he wants? That’s all you will be again,” my mother says. I open the door. “Mike,” Mom whispers, trying to stop me. I don’t turn around, but I wait, my hand tightening on the doorknob. “I love you,” she says a few seconds later. I swallow down the confusion and the emotion that’s swamping me.

I don’t respond to her. I don’t know how.

Instead, I walk away.30VioletI’m exhausted as I walk through the front door. It’s one in the morning and I’m actually home early. Freddie wasn’t too happy, but I told him if he didn’t like it, he could fire me. I’m a fairly popular dancer, so I’m confident he won’t do that. Right now, I’m not sure I care. I’m exhausted and my damn feet hurt.

I’m also a little worried.

Mike said he’d meet me at the club tonight. I kept looking for him, but he never showed. Part of me worried that I was being played again. I know I have trust issues and Mike… I want to believe what he says, and I do mostly. I’m quickly learning that I have trust issues, however.

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