Page 99 of The Blessing

“I think she tried to contact your father, but her husband put a stop to that,” she answers with a hint of a smile.

She stares off into space again, deep in thought. The small smile fades to a blank look. I can understand her conditions; she was hurt and didn’t want my father’s “mistress” lurking around. I lean back against my chair and close my eyes, enjoying the silence as I try to decipher what the fucking hell I’m feeling. I feel lost, so incredibly lost that I no longer know who I am. How can I go about understanding my emotions if I feel like I’m looking at a fucking stranger every time I see my reflection in the mirror? My dad supposedly had my best interest at heart when he took me in—but what he did was fuck me up beyond measure. Now, I doubt everything while being constantly confused about my true identity. I hope that during my search for the truth—I’m able to gain my confidence and a better understanding of myself.

“How old was I when you got me?” I want to know how much time I spent with my biological mother. How old was I when she abandoned me?

“You were ten months old. We had to convince Dean that a stork dropped you off on our doorstep,” she states with a mirthless laugh. “Luckily, he wasn’t old enough to know any better.”

Felicity missed my first birthday. That thought is so fucking depressing. Especially since I’m so close to celebrating my son’s first. I wish I could remember my time with her as a baby. I wish I knew what type of mother she’d been before she gave me up.

“So, she dropped me off and moved away?”

“Your dad went to get you. You weren’t in the best shape so he had to take time off work to care for you, while I tended to my own son.”

What the fuck? I wasn’t in the “best shape”? I feel my brows knit together in confusion and my jaw clench as I try to let her words sink in. Was I malnourished or some shit like that? What can you possibly do to harm a baby? What kind of monster would do something so fucking vile?

“I don’t know the whole story, Trevor,” Evelyn says dismissively, obviously fucking bored with our conversation. “You had a normal childhood, despite it all. I took care of you because your bastard of a father was always working.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly. My mind still reeling from this new information.

“It’s fine, Trevor. I’m not a monster,” she says dismissively, laughing at what seems to be a preposterous idea to her.

I’d never been close to Evelyn, but she could’ve been far worse than she was. She was a self-centered, self-serving, passive aggressive, fucking bitch at times, but she never abused me. She just treated me like a terrible step-child—which now makes sense. When I was growing up, I thought she gave every Disney villain a run for their fucking money. Now, I wonder if I was too harsh on her. She didn’t have a happy marriage and she cared for a child that was a product of her husband’s affair. I don’t see us becoming close, but the revelation does put her in a different light for me.

We sit in silence for a while. Evelyn starts on her second glass of wine since my arrival and I sit back, my mind blank. We’ve never been ones for small-talk, at least, not with each other. I lean forward and run my hands through my hair, tugging on it and smiling at the small relief the pain provides.

“How are you doing?” I ask her. I can’t imagine the pain she must be going through.

She shrugs her shoulders and takes a gulp of her wine. “I’ve been better, Trevor.”

She looks tired all of a sudden, and I can tell she wants me gone. This is the longest she’s ever spoken to me, and I’m honestly surprised she didn’t throw me out earlier. I stand up to leave, but I stop to take one last look around before exiting the room. Knowing I’m saying goodbye to the mother I once thought I had has my feelings all over the place. Don’t slip, Trevor. Don’t let yourself slip. I don’t know if I feel relief, but whatever I feel is so bittersweet it makes my stomach turn. I’ve always hated goodbyes. Whenever you look back on things, you seem to forget about the horribly, wretched fucking times, and focus on the positives. That’s what makes saying goodbye so fucking tough—even with Evelyn. You walk away, knowing that chapter of your life is now over. No matter if you decide to revisit one day it or not, it will never be the same.

“Goodbye, Evelyn,” I say, as my eyes settle on her sitting in her favorite wingback chair in the living room all by herself.

She turns to me and with a sad smile, she replies, “Goodbye, Trevor.”

The words hang in the air and make my chest tighten. This is it. The quietness grows uncomfortable and I give her one last look. She has dropped her eyes back to the floor and sips on her drink in silence. The sound of the clock ticking is the only noise filling the room. I take a deep breath and turn on my heel and walk the rest of the way to the door. Goodbye, Evelyn, I say to myself before shutting the door to my childhood home.

“Baby, please just distract me,” I all but beg as I pull her shorts down her perfect legs.

I can feel her rolling her eyes at me. I know she wants to talk about all the shit that’s happened—but I’m not in the “talking about my feelings” sort of mood. I just want to get lost inside her body and forget about everything else that plagues me. She’s hesitant at first, but as soon as I slide my finger into her wet core all complaints cease to exist. I play with her sex for a while, and when I can no longer contain myself I slip on a condom and push inside her in one, hard thrust; tonight, I can’t restrain myself. Tonight, I just need a good, hard fuck. I begin to thrust into her at an unrelenting pace; fucking her into the couch as she grabs my ass and begs me to take her harder.

When we’re both sated and our bodies are buzzing with the effects of our orgasms, I pull out. Subsequently taking off the condom and knotting it up before throwing it away in the trashcan by the couch. Worn out and content, I sigh before nestling up beside her, holding her tightly against my body so she doesn’t roll off my small couch. She smiles at me, resting her head on my chest, running her hand up and down my body as we lay in a comfortable silence. Turns out, sex with my beautiful girlfriend was just what I needed.

“Did everything go okay? You haven’t said much since you got home.”

She’s right. I haven’t been in the mood to talk, but Evelyn tends to do that shit to me. Not only did I say goodbye to the woman I had believed to be my mother for over twenty-four fucking years, but I also said goodbye to the house I grew up in with Dean. After I left, I drove around for a long time—hoping to pull myself together before I returned home to Ronnie and Grey. I arrived home to find Grey asleep and Ronnie watching television on the couch; she was waiting up for me. She pressed me to open up and talk to her, but I knew I wasn’t in the right state of mind to discuss anything until now.

“It was fine,” I say with a long sigh. “I got the closure I needed, I guess.”

“That’s good, babe,” she replies, seeming to be happy that I’ve finally started to talk.

I’m silent for a moment, playing with her hair before continuing, “She told me I was ten months old when she and my dad took me in.”

Ronnie’s eyes widen at this and she sits up so she can get a better look at me. She takes in my dark expression and asks, “How do you feel about that?”

I have to smirk because she sounds like Dr. Russell all of a sudden.

“I don’t know. I guess I figured she must’ve had me for a bit.” I shrug, feeling fucking uncomfortable as I think of being a little vulnerable baby. I don’t like it.