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“How could she?” I ask, my words sounding as broken as I feel.
“She was never yours, Brent. She’s always belonged to him.”
I’m able to look around once again, but my mother is nowhere to be seen. Her voice feels ethereal, ghost-like, as if floating on a breeze rather than actually existing.
I attempt to lift my hand to wipe away the steady stream of tears, but my arm weighs a million pounds.
I love you.
The words are easy to read on her kiss-swollen lips, and I’m sick to my stomach, watching him clench and jerk as he comes inside of her.
As if time travels at warp speed, her belly is already swollen by the time he pulls free and wraps his arms around her. Their heads turn, their eyes locked in my direction, but somehow I sense that they don’t see me at all. I don’t exist to them. My pain and heartache at witnessing them together doesn’t exist in their world.
His hand slowly rubs her swollen belly.
Warmth that turns cold too quickly races up my legs, the pressure of the hidden touch feeling like a million ants on my skin. I attempt to brush it away, but the feeling only grows.
I fight against it, but then the calming voice of an angel washes over me. I’m unable to interpret what she’s saying, but the rhythmic tone of her voice is reassuring and manages to calm me.
Angeline and her lover are gone, the bed now empty, the sheets still rumpled from their lovemaking. My legs are still trapped, keeping me locked in place, but the angel’s voice soothes somehow.
My skin feels like it does after a hard workout, warm at first, then cold to the point I begin to shiver uncontrollably.
The ants crawling over me begin to bite, a million stabs of pain covering my skin.
“What’s wrong?”
Angeline.
I look up, her lips forming a flat line as she looks down at me.
I want to hug her, kiss her. I want to pull away.
I want to forgive. I want to forget.
Her hands on me as she clutches my shoulders don’t feel right, but my love for her burns inside of my chest.
“I thought you loved me,” I whisper, the words filled with shattered dreams that will never come to fruition.
“This was a mistake,” she says, her face full of sympathy as if she thinks I’m a fool for ever considering we’d work out. “We shouldn’t have drunk that much last night.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, wondering if it’s the betrayal getting stuck there or a consequence of getting drunk.
“A mistake?” Confusion threatens to once again take over.
Angeline gives me a soft smile. Her lips begin to move but the words are soundless.
“I can’t—” I begin, once again trying to lift my hand.
She takes a step back, the ants taking over again, ripping and shredding my skin.
The only thing I can manage is watching her walk away.
I scream for her, but no sound escapes my throat.
She doesn’t once look back at me. It’s clear I don’t matter to her.
And I’m left wondering if I ever did in the first place.
Chapter 5
Sunshine
I take my time as I fold back the blanket and sheet, revealing his left leg.
“Rachel picked up an extra shift today, and I swear the woman hates me. I’ve never done anything to her, but she scowls every time she sees me.”
I dip the washcloth in the warm soapy water, ringing it out a little before applying it to his calf.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if she was one of the women he cheated on me with.”
I try to shove down those thoughts. Giving Travis the power to continue hurting me is ridiculous. I need to see him as the father of my child and nothing more. I don’t mourn the loss of him as my partner, but I am more than a little bitter that I wasted so much time with him. We could’ve co-parented easily.
Guilt swims in my stomach as I wonder if not saying anything about his drinking helped contribute to it. Did not caring what he did, so long as he wasn’t at home starting fights, equal my permission for him to do the things he has done that put us all in this situation?
I take a deep breath, dropping the soapy rag in to the basin before reaching into the one with clean water to rinse Bishop’s leg.
I’m on my normal shift today, and I’d normally bathe him in the evening, but there has been a lull since lunch and I’m exhausted. Keeping busy is the only thing keeping my eyes open. I knew taking the second job in the evenings was going to be exhausting, but I have no other choice.
I still haven’t heard from the attorney, and as frustrating as that is, I also realize that a court date for Travis hasn’t been set either.
