Page 43 of Boss and Brat

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Carter asked.

Ethan flicked ash onto the dirt. “Mary. Church. My mom.”

Carter waited.

Ethan took a long drag, letting the burn settle in his lungs before he spoke. “She didn’t call me. Didn’t visit. Didn’t even text to ask if I was alive. But she told Mary’s mom I’d be at church on Sunday like nothing happened.”

Carter’s jaw tightened a little. “That bother you?”

Ethan gave a fake laugh. “Yeah, it bothers me. She acts like I’m some… extension of her. Like she can just sign me up for whatever makes her look good. Potluck, choir, youth group. Doesn’t matter if I want it.”

He rubbed his thumb along the filter, restless. “I was in that barn. She knew. She didn’t come. But she’s already planning where I’m supposed to sit on Sunday.”

Carter shifted his weight. “You want to call her?”

Ethan hesitated. He did. He didn’t. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to say she was sorry. He wanted her to say anything.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “If I call, I’ll lose it.”

Carter shook his head. “If you call, stay respectful. But tell her the truth. Firm. Clear. No yelling. No backing down.”

Ethan scoffed. “Yeah, right. She’ll talk over me like always.”

“Not if you don’t let her,” Carter said. “You’re not a kid anymore.”

Ethan stared at the cigarette burning down between his fingers. “Feels like I am when it comes to her.”

Carter stepped closer, voice low. “Then this is how you stop feeling like that.”

Ethan swallowed hard. The idea of calling his mother made his stomach twist, but the idea of not calling her—of letting her keep deciding things for him—felt worse.

He flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. “What do I even say?”

“Start with the truth,” Carter said. “Tell her you’re safe. Tell her you’re working. Tell her you’re not going to church on Sunday.”

Ethan huffed. “She’ll lose her mind.”

“Then let her,” Carter said. “You’re not living under her roof. She doesn’t get to run your life from a distance.”

Ethan looked up at him, surprised by the heat in Carter’s voice.

“Do you think I can do that?” Ethan asked.

Carter nodded once. “Yeah. I do.”

Something shifted inside him, a tight pull low in his stomach that made his breath catch. His fingers went cold around the phone as he took it out of his pocket, even though his palms were damp. The screen blurred for a second before he blinked hard, steadying it. He pulled up his mother’s name, thumb hovering over the call button, the muscles in his hand twitching like they couldn’t decide whether to hold on or drop the damn thing.

Carter didn’t move. “I’m right here.”

Ethan took a breath. And hit call. Ethan held the phone to his ear, the beat in his ear tapping like a loose wire sparking under his skin. Each ring buzzed through the speaker with a metallic edge, steady and intrusive, like it was drilling straight into the space behind his ribs.

His mother answered on the third ring.

“Ethan?” Her voice was bright, practiced, the same tone she used when greeting people at church. “Honey, I’ve been meaning to call you.”

Ethan’s stomach twisted.Meaning to. Right.

He swallowed. “Hey, Mom.”