“No!” My voice is loud in the tiny room, but I’m not going to temper myself for her anymore. “That is it! I’m going to be the best goddamn reporter you’ve ever seen, and I will support myself. I will not throw away my life like you have by expecting someone else to take care of me and never giving myself an opportunity to be the one to do it. I won’t tie myself to another person so tightly that I don’t know who I am without them. I won’t be like you.” I take a deep breath. “Dad left you, and he’s not coming back! Even if he does come back, you shouldn’t let him!”
“He loves me.” Mom shakes her head. She’s not even listening to me. I don’t think she’s heard a single word that’s left my mouth.
“No, he doesn’t. Those guys out there,” I point toward the hallway, “they’re missing Worlds to be here with me right now, but Dad wouldn’t even miss happy hour for you.”
“That’s not true. He just has to work late a lot. He works so hard to support me,” says Mom. Her delusional refusal to see the truth runs so deep, I’m not sure she’ll ever be able to climb out of the hole she’s in.
“No, he doesn’t. And that’s not what love is. It’s not whatever you and Dad have.” My words falter as everything I’ve experienced over the past weeks since meeting the guys plays out in my mind, clicking things into place like a perfectly-solved cube.
Love.
That’s what the guys feel for me. They’re here even though I didn’t call them. Supporting me even when I told them I don’t need them. Putting me above their own goals in a way I’m not sure I would have done for them if the tables were reversed.
Well, that ends now.
I stare at my mom for a beat, as she stubbornly continues to insist that my father loves her and that as soon as he’s able, he’ll be here. She’s still talking when I turn and leave the room.
The guys are standing outside her door, looking uncomfortable. They’ve heard everything, I’m sure, but we don’t have time to worry about that right now. I reach for them.
“Do we still have time to make it?”
“Make it where? Do you need us to run out and get something for you?” asks Lukas, standing up from where he was leaning against the wall.
“To Worlds,” I tell him, starting for the elevators. They don’t follow, and after a few steps I turn back.
“But your mom is in the hospital,” Sebastian points out, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Is she being released?”
“She’s going to be fine. She doesn’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“I can’t hear what you’re saying, Rebecca. Speak up,” calls Mom from her hospital bed.
“I’m leaving,” I call back into the room. “Call me once you’re in therapy.”
There’s no way I can help her. She needs someone more than me. A professional who can help her realize that she’s put her entire life on hold for a man who doesn’t love her, and help her figure out how to start it over and actually live it.
Meanwhile, I’ve got four beautiful, wonderful men who love me, and have been showing me that for weeks. They deserve so much better than me, but if I’m who they want, I’m going to help them achieve their dreams.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to let mine go, but for now, we have a world championship to get to.
“Are you sure?” asks Felix, glancing back at my mom.
“I am. Let’s go.” I start walking down the hallway and when I get to the elevator and look behind, they’re still hovering outside Mom’s room, looking uncertain. “Come on!”
As soon as I push the elevator call button, I can hear them hurrying to catch up. They’re going to have to hurry a lot more than that though, if we’re going to make it in time.
“We’re so glad you made it,” says Lukas’s mom the next morning, wrapping her son in a hug and then hugging all the other guys, then me.
“Sorry we’re so late,” I say, embarrassed that they probably all know how badly I’ve behaved these last two weeks. “It’s my fault.”
It hurts to admit that, but it’s true. And if I’m going to treat the guys fairly, I need to be able to acknowledge where I’ve gone wrong.
“There’s no way you could have planned what happened to your mom,” says Sebastian’s mother, stopping me before I can say anything else. “We’re just glad she’s doing well enough for you to be here.”
Hmm. It’s odd that she’s only commenting on our being late due to Mom’s hospitalization. I look over at the guys, who all have a slight pink tinge to their cheeks. I don’t think they’ve told their families what I’d done. How I ghosted them. If they had,their parents would certainly hate me and not want me to be here.
“What time did you get in?” asks Elliot’s dad.
“We didn’t get to the hotel until well after midnight,” says Elliot, stifling a yawn.
