“You were right,” I whisper against the top of her head. Her hair smells like it always has — lavender and mint — and it brings me the smallest piece of comfort. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know I disappointed you.”
She holds me tight, fingers digging into my back like she’s trying to piece me back together.
“My head’s a mess,” I admit, voice barely there. “I never came back right from prison. I thought I could just outrun it, but all I did was destroy everything. I need help.”
She leans back, just enough to look up at me. Her eyes shine, fierce and full of a love that burns even when everything else has gone cold.
“Then we’ll get you help, pumpkin,” she says. “But you have to want it.Reallywant it. You never did before.”
I take a step back, shame pressing down on me. “I hurt the woman I love in the worst possible way. There is no redemption for me. Ever,” I say, my voice wrecked with grief.
I look at her, feeling the words getting stuck in my throat. But I force them out anyway. “I can’t even go near her. It would only hurt her more. Just to see me.”
Mama nods slowly. Carefully.
“Then give her what she needs, Dominic. What she wants. Even if it’s not you.”
She picks the plate back up, and pushes it gently into my hands.
“Eat,” she says. “And then you’re going to tell me everything. Every detail.”
There’s no talking my way out of this. Not with Mama. Not this time. Not after everything I did.
I used to dodge it. Talking about prison. What happened to me behind bars. People were too afraid to ask, too careful not to say the wrong thing, always walking on eggshells around me. But this? What I did to Adora? No one’s going to protect me from the truth of it. Especially not Mama.
She’s not letting this go. She wants every detail. The plan. The lies. Fuck, by the end of this, she’s not calling Pops to whoop my ass — she’s going to do it herself.
By the time I finish laying it all out, the food in my gut turns to stone. Mama sits next to me, on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall like she’s trying and failing to process the huge fucking stupidity of the son she raised.
The slap to the back of my head lands with a crack. Doesn’t surprise me. Still makes me wince.
She stands. Her breathing is shallow, her palm pressing to her chest like she’s holding in a scream.
“Two idiots,” she hisses. “I raised two fucking idiots.”
That curse word, coming from her? That’s how I know she’s not just pissed. Furious is a word too small for what she’s feeling.
Her gaze snaps to mine, and suddenly I’m twelve again, caught stealing a pack of gum, thinking she’d never find out.I can see it in her eyes. Disappointment doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“I love you, Dominic. You’re my son. Blood or not, that’s never mattered to me. You’ve been mine since you were ten years old. But I am so goddamn disappointed in you right now, I can barely find the words.”
She takes a breath. Deep. Controlled. Like she’s about to go to war.
“It’s a miracle that girl didn’t die. If she had…” She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t have to. My heart already knows where she’s going. “Let’s just say that even a mother’s love has limits, Dominic. You were handed a miracle. Just like Kane was.”
She sighs from the bottom of her heart. “Adora didn’t deserve what you did to her. Especially when you claim to love her. How can you dothatto someone you love?”
Her arms cross. Her voice hardens. “You stay away from her. Don’t call, don’t chase, don’t beg. You leave that girl the hell alone.”
Then, her tone softens. Just a crack, but enough to cut deeper.
“We’ll get you help. The kind you’ve been needing for a long time. It’s time to stop pretending you can handle the wounds of the past on your own.”
I nod. Slow.
She puts her hands on her hips.
“Now get your ass in the ring with Pops.” Her eyes spark with something wild. “I want a front row seat to him kicking your sorry ass into next week.”
