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Jason grins as he unloads more bottles from the fridge. With each one he dumps down the drain, I feel myself growing more out of control. I want to stop him and kick them both out so I can be alone to wallow in my misery. I created this fucked up mess, and drinking away my sorrows seems to be the only viable solution so far. Besides, it’s only been a day since I went completely off the deep end; it’s not like this is a habit… yet.
Deja snaps her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to the present. I can see unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, and waves of guilt wash over me, threatening to drag me under.
“Why weren’t we enough for you? I thought you loved her. I thought you loved me. Why did you let her walk away?”
“You were more than enough for me, Deja. I love you and your mom. She’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years.”
“Then why did you let her go?”
“Look, there are some things that happened—things I’m not going to tell you because your mom wouldn’t be happy if I repeated them—and we decided that it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”
“Mom already told me about your mother.” Deja’s scowl deepens. “Why didn’t you come after her? Why didn’t you beg her to stay? Why didn’t you choose her?”
“I told you, Deja. We decided it would be best if we weren’t together anymore.”
“I don’t believe that.” Her expression is set in a stubborn frown as she crosses her arms. “I saw the way my mom looked at you. She used to look at my dad that way when I was little.”
“Deja, it isn’t that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because your mom and I are adults, and we made our choices.”
She had made the choice, but Deja was right. I hadn’t fought for them. I should have gone after Tracey that night and told her I was choosing her and Deja, even though she’d told me not to. She’d needed time to think, and I could have respected that while still telling her that my choice would be them. It would always be them.
I acted like a coward, and from the look Deja is giving me, she knows it too.
Though tears roll down her cheeks, she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. She’s angry, and she refuses to show weakness. She could give me a run for my money, much the same way she had when she’d chased me away from her mother that first night. Now, Deja is standing here and fighting for me and her mother to be together. She’s so strong, so brave… much braver than I am. My heart just about bursts with pride as I look at her. This girl has stolen my heart, right along with her mother.
“Then why didn’t you fight for us?” she asks yet again. “I thought you loved us, but you let us go just like my father did.”
Ouch kid, that one cuts deep.
I know what Deja is going through with her father—at least, I had known before I walked out of their lives too.
“I do love you and your mom.” I have to make her see that. She needs to know I love her. “Loving you and your mom was never in question. I love both of you, and that’s not changing whether your mom and I are together or not, okay? I love you.”
“Then fight for us,” Deja says, her bottom lip quivering. “Stop drinking yourself to death, and fight for us.”
“Come here.”
Deja lunges herself in my arms and buries her head against my chest. I wrap my arms around her. “I love you, okay?”
With her head still buried in my chest, she nods. I give her some time to compose herself. “No matter what, Deja, I will always love you.”
It is then I become aware of the silence in the kitchen. Jason has stopped emptying the refrigerator and now leans against one of the cupboards, just taking in everything going on between me and Deja.
After taking a deep breath, she lifts her head and looks at me. My arms drop to my sides.
“She told me about what your mother said. I asked her one night before she started crying and eating ice cream. She’s been doing that a lot, you know. After she thinks I’ve gone to bed, she starts eating ice cream and crying. She misses you as much as you miss her.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” I say as I look at her, my shoulders slumping. “Your mom did what was best for you. She is protecting you from toxic people.”
“Why did your mom say those things to my mom? Why did she hurt her?”
“My mother has ideas about what she wants my life to be, and she’s upset it isn’t going that way. She thought if she tore your mother down, I would do what she wanted,” I tell her, even though I’m honestly still trying to make sense of it all myself.
“Then why did you stay with her? Why didn’t you choose us?”
