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“Brent,” she says, her voice pleading and a little broken.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say. Hell, I don’t even know if I have any right to be mad.
She doesn’t exactly owe me anything, but showing up and expecting me to fucking lie for her? She’s no different from my mother. After I was placed into foster care the last time, I never looked back at the woman who birthed me. To this day, I don’t know if she’s dead or alive.
As I turn my back and walk down the hallway toward my room, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face Sunshine again.
My trauma isn’t her responsibility, but forgiving the lies she has told when she didn’t need to aren’t high on my list either.
Chapter 27
Sunshine
Maybe if he slammed the door it would be easier for me to deal with.
Anger is always preferable to silence. I lived in silence for years with Travis, not that I have any right to compare what’s going on with Brent to the relationship I had with my ex.
He handled the entire situation very well for a man who didn’t have a clue what was happening, and his ease made it feel even more slimy than it probably was. He lied for me. I know I didn’t exactly ask him to, but I begged with my eyes.
I want to blame him for being here in the first place, but it’s not fair to put that off on him.
I’m in the wrong here, but as much as I want to ask forgiveness, the look in his eyes before he left the room told me he didn’t have any to offer.
I don’t know why it even matters. My only concern is getting Ryder back, and I know how difficult that would be if it weren’t for Cerberus. I wouldn’t have Faith who called in some favors and got this home evaluation done so quickly. Mrs. Brunello wouldn’t have been smiling at Brent like he hung the moon.
As much as I wanted to believe Faith when she told me I wasn’t a bad mother, I know the visit would’ve been different if he wasn’t here. As shitty as that is, I’m grateful he played along. I can easily live with this man hating me, so long as I get my son back.
I take several deep breaths, knowing I can’t just go to my room like I have the last couple of nights and ignore him. I need to know what he plans to do. He could easily call Marta up tomorrow and tell her that he was somehow coerced into a lie. I don’t know that he’d be that petty, but I have to find out what his plans are.
His bedroom door opens before I can reach for the doorknob. I swallow thickly when I look up at him, tears threatening to fall.
I hate feeling weak and needy around anyone, but somehow it feels even worse looking up at him. I want to plead with him, beg him to just play along, promise anything he could ever want, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It feels like manipulation, and he really doesn’t seem like a man who could be persuaded with promises.
“You owe me nothing,” he begins, his eyes darting away as if he can’t stand to look at me.
I open my mouth to speak, but he lifts his hand.
“My biological mother was terrible. An addict. I spent most of my childhood in and out of foster care until I was adopted by an amazing woman. I may have lost the last fucking five years, but what happened today was very fucking reminiscent of what I went through as a kid. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and an opportunity to explain because honestly, Sunshine, my head is a fucking mess right now. Did I just lie to that woman for all the wrong reasons? Did I make a mistake, thinking you’re a good person?”
Guilt swims through me, tendrils of shame sparking along my arms and legs. I don’t know how he’ll feel when I tell him the truth. That voice in my head that screams I’m a bad mother is beating out Faith’s voice that told me I’m not.
“I want to help you. So help me God I do, but if you can’t be the mom he needs you to be, you need to love him enough to let someone else raise him. The consequences of keeping him with you could be catastrophic. I beg you not to be selfish.”
He blurs, my tears forcing me to see him through the shimmering wetness.
I take several steps back, dropping my ass to the couch, unsure of what to say or how to explain. It’s not exactly cut and dry. I can point fingers at others in my life, but at the end of the day, as Ryder’s mother, I’m ultimately responsible for him. I failed him.
