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“I hate him,” she said softly.
My chest ached. “He’s back?”
“Yes. He has been for about a month or so. She asked me not to tell you.”
Fuck, I knew it. I goddamned knew it.
The back door opened. I shoved off the couch. Mom took one look at me and saw I knew the truth. She sighed, defeat clear on her face. I was stuck between wanting to comfort her and yell at her at the same time.
“Why do you keep letting him do this to you?” was what came out, broken and vulnerable and so damn tired.
“I don’t know,” Mom replied. “Because I love him, which I know is a bad excuse. Because he’s the father of my children. Because every time I hope it will be different.”
But it wasn’t. It never fucking was. She loved him, and he used that against her. Every time, he apologized and told her he’d changed. He lured her in with empty promises and doing nice things for her, helping around the house, and with the car… Shit. He’d done the work on the car, hadn’t he? I should have fucking known something was up then. That was what he did—manipulated, helped out, let her think she could count on him, and then he bailed again.
It was why I would never, ever let myself depend on anyone.
But I had, hadn’t I? I’d counted on Harrison, and what if he hurt me this way too?
“What did he do? You were crying earlier, weren’t you? What happened?”
Mom sighed again. “Zander.”
“Tell me. Please.”
“He was angry I couldn’t let him come with us. I knew you wouldn’t want him here. Then he gave us a guilt trip for leaving and…”
“And now he’s gone.” That motherfucker. I hated him. Hated that his blood was inside my veins.
“He wasn’t answering when I called yesterday, or this morning, and…I knew. I just knew. That was Martha. Said he packed up and left right after we did and that he took some of our things. To sell, I assume. I called him again now, and he didn’t answer, so I confronted him by voice mail.”
My head spun. My heart thudded. I clutched my stomach, tried to breathe, tried to steady myself and not let my anger eat me alive.
Mom came closer, wincing, and I realized she didn’t have her cane or anything. “Mom, sit down. You’ve been on your feet too much today.”
She cocked her head. “You’re so angry with me, yet you’re still trying to take care of me. I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”
“Here, I’ll help you.” Harrison walked over and took her arm. Oh God, he was there. He was seeing how fucked up we were. I’d somehow forgotten we were in his house, that he was witnessing all this, and…fuck…I needed him. I wanted him to tell me it would be okay.
Harrison was so responsible, so put together. He deserved so much better than this, and I knew, fucking knew, that when he realized it, he would walk away, and it would kill me.
“We should go,” I said.
“Go?” Mom asked just as Harrison’s gaze snapped to mine.
“Yes. We should go home and see what he took. Maybe get the locks changed so he can’t come back. We need to get everything sorted out before I have to go back to work next week.”
“Zander, you don’t need to,” Mom replied.
But I did, didn’t I? Who else would help? What about Molly? And if he came back, would Mom fall for his lies again? Plus, we didn’t even know what he’d taken.
“It’s late,” Harrison said. “Let’s sleep on it. I can take tomorrow off, drive up with you guys, and help you get everything sorted and taken care of.”
“What? No. Tomorrow is a huge day for you at work. You told me how busy you usually are. You don’t need to take it off because of our mess. This isn’t your problem.”
“If it hurts you, it is. You’re my…friend.”
Don’t do this. Stop trying to make me trust you. Stop trying to let me believe I can depend on anyone. How would I survive if you walked away from me?
“Don’t worry about it, Harrison. I have it under control.” I didn’t look at him, couldn’t. It would hurt too much.
“Zander…” Mom began just as Molly said, “Do you really think anyone believes the two of you are just friends? You’re being a dick, Zander.”
“Molly! Language,” Mom said. “Zander, it’s okay…you and Harrison. I support you and want you happy. And he’s right. There’s absolutely nothing we can do tonight. There’s nothing to be done at all, really. We just pick up the pieces and keep going like we always do.”
“But it affects all of us!” jumped out of my mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just…I need to go. Let’s go.” I needed to do something, to fix it, to at least feel like I was putting a plan into action. Otherwise I’d just drive myself crazy.
