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I head home and pull into the parking garage when it hits me. I won’t be seeing him ever again. I pushed him away this time. I’ve been holding him at arm’s length for so long. I did this. He’s right, I could treat his son and still be with him. I could see him outside of the club. But then the memories of how close it got with Caleb fill my mind. How he left me to take care of Sebastian. How he would show up at my clinicals and cause scenes. He once showed up drunk and threw a beer bottle at a doctor after he was asked to leave. He was upset I’d canceled his game system membership. I slide out of the car and head up to my condo.
* * *
Another week passes, and Hayden’s recovery is going well. Trevor still tries to push me to see him, but I won’t. I haven’t been back to the club either. I don’t want to play with anyone but him, and I can’t do that. Just this past week Caleb left me a message at the hospital. It reminded me of why I can’t do anything with Trevor.
The realtor showed me several homes over the weekend, but I didn’t find one I liked. There was something wrong with each and every one of them. I’m beginning to question moving here. I know it’s just because of everything that went down with Trevor. I love my job here. I’ve been dealing with Caleb for well over ten years, including the time we were dating. Even while we dated, I knew he wasn’t the best for me. But something inside me, maybe his voice, kept telling me I wasn’t good enough for anyone else.
“Mom, can I spend the night at Hays and Dyne’s this weekend?” Bas asks as soon as I step into the condo. He’s been bugging to visit his friends. If everything goes well this week, Hays will be out of his brace. He will, however, be sidelined from hockey for a bit longer. I’m getting him fit for a brace he can wear under his gear until his knee is strong enough.
“Give me a sec to get changed.” I move to my room.
I slip off my heels and slide the zipper down my skirt, then drop it to the floor before taking off my blouse. I change into my favorite ripped up soft jeans and a baggy sweater. I step into the bathroom and look at myself critically, as I always do. Caleb’s voice fills my head, criticizing everything. It hits me then. I’ve let my ex-husband have a say in everything in my life for over ten years. I’ve listened to his voice over and over. But I have found a better man. A man who wants me no matter what. A man I’ve pushed away.
I’m doing this. I’m going to get better, and maybe we’ll see what happens.
I take my hair down and let it fall down my back. I grab my purse, a pair of socks, and a pair of mid-calf boots.
“Let’s go to dinner,” I holler when I exit my room.
“Pizza?” Bas asks, and I smile at him.
“Yeah, buddy, let’s do a mommy and son date.” I hug him to my side.
“Good. I’m going to go out with some ladies I met,” Mom says, a soft look fills her face. She knows I don’t normally take Bas out for pizza because I’m always dieting, but tonight I don’t care. I like my body for what it is. I love who I am and what I’ve accomplished. I’m going to stop letting Caleb control my life.
We are sitting in the restaurant eating sausage and pepperoni pizza, Bas’s favorite. He’s telling me all about how the coach suspended the boy who hurt Hays. The kid will be out for a couple of weeks. The coach is also hard at work teaching the boys how to defend themselves. I like that he’s being proactive, just in case a situation like this happens again. He tells me how Brooklyn, the twins’ older brother, came into practice and showed them some moves. He's in a more advanced hockey program. He also tells me how school and counseling are going. It’s been so long since we’ve done this. I love my son, and I love spending time with him, but it’s very rarely just the two of us. Mom is usually present. Or I was focused on other things when we were in Boston. That’s another good thing about moving here. Bas and I have developed more of a relationship. I don’t have to worry about Caleb or money.
“It’s Monday night, Bas, we need to get home. You have school tomorrow,” I say when we finish eating.
“Mom, you didn’t answer my question about this weekend.”
It’s dark out as we walk toward our car in the parking lot. Bas skips ahead, chattering about the twins and all the reasons I should let him go. We hit a particularly dim spot between the light poles when I’m grabbed from behind. An arm wraps around my waist and a hand covers my mouth.
“Give me the purse,” a guy whispers in my ear. He pokes something into my side.
All the years I lived in Boston or visited other major cities I was never mugged. But here in Eastport I’m attacked with my son present. I uncurl my arm and let my small bag slide down. The guy yanks it, and I can’t stop the cry as it pulls on my arm. Bas stops and turns. He has the car keys in his hand, and I pray he stays put.
“Tell the kid to come here.”
I shake my head hard. My eyes fix on Bas, hoping he gets the message to stay put. The guy pulls his hand from my waist and slams it into my kidney. I scream behind his hand when something sharp pricks my skin through my sweater. He has a knife. He didn’t stab me. The blade nicked me when he turned it from me. He’s not trying to kill me, just steal my money.
His hand slips from my mouth. “Bas, stay there,” I order, and the guy hits me again. This time the blade digs a bit deeper. “Please take my purse. There’s money in it. Just don’t hurt my son.”
“Tell him to come here.”
I don’t know what he wants with Bas. For a second I think it might be Caleb, but I don’t recognize the voice.
“Sebastian,” I say his name softly, and wait until I have his full attention. “Run,” I yell and rear back my head.
The knife presses into me, but the guy pulls away and throws me to the ground. I hear a horn honking and the pounding of Bas’s feet as he runs. The man kicks me in the ribs and tries to stomp on me, but I roll away.
“Bitch,” he says, and takes off running. “I’ll get you,” he yells as he disappears into the darkness.
I can’t lie here. I need to make sure my son is okay. I push up onto my hands and knees. My ribs pull and warm blood drips down my back. I get to my feet and scour the area for Bas.
“Bas,” I scream his name. Please don’t let him be hurt.
“Mommy.”
