Page 121 of Playing With Love

“Your father never wanted children. I got to keep you as long as I kept you occupied…”

She might’ve said more. I mean, I knew she said more because I watched her mouth form words, but I could no longer hear them.

Keep me.

Never wanted children.

Well, that explained a lot.

I was unwanted.

“I think you should leave.” That was Allyson.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” the other woman in the room said.

“I’m not done speaking to my daughter.”

“You are,” Lenox contradicted.

“Do you know what the fucked-up part about all of this is?” I inquired. “Growing up, I would’ve preferred the truth. I would’ve preferred knowing he didn’t want me over your excuses and lies. Instead, I was made to feel unlovable, weak, not good enough. And that’s on you. You made me feel those things by making excuses. It wasn’t until recently that I learned what love is—real, selfless love. The kind that is given freely. I used to think it was him. But now I see it clearly, it was you. He spewed his hateful words but you did the real damage. And you know what, I’m not mad about it. I actually feel sorry for you. Whatever arrangement you made, I hope it was worth it. Because it’s you who has to live with a man that cares more about going to Atlantic City than caring for his ill wife. It’s you who has to live with a man who is utterly incapable of giving love. And it’s you who has to live with the knowledge that you are a shit mother who never should’ve brought a child into the quagmire that is your life.”

“I had you⁠—”

“Yes, Mother, you had me, then you allowed that piece of shit you call your husband to harm me.”

It was interesting my mother didn’t look stricken or upset her daughter had called her a shit mother. Instead, she looked put off and irritated I’d called her out.

My father would call it gall.

I called it finally finding my voice.

“I love you.”

I swallowed down the bile hearing that lie caused.

“You don’t love me. And if you think you do, I want no part of that kind of love.”

“I love you,” Ally piped up.

How sweet was this woman?

“Now that I believe. See, she ran into a burning building to save my life. She helped me carry Tucker up a flight of stairs instead of running to save herself. She stayed by my side. That’s love. Now tell me, Mom, would you risk your life running into a fire to save me?”

“I don’t have those skills.”

I blinked.

Just that.

My only response was to flutter my eyelids because my mother’s answer was so insanely preposterous I was rendered speechless.

I didn’t bother explaining Allyson wasn’t a firefighter, she wasn’t trained in saving lives, it wasn’t her job, nor had she known me my whole life or say…birthed me.

It then dawned on me, this was actually a waste of my time.

I had more important things to do than listen to another second of this nonsense. I had a man to get to and a life to start, one that didn’t include history weighing me down.

“Goodbye, Mother.”