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I press my lips to the top of Val’s head; the theme of being tricked and used isn’t lost on me. “You didn’t owe her anything, Valentine. You did the right thing.”
“She called me all sorts of names, but that was the first time I ever shouted back.” Her body starts to tremble. “I packed up my bag to go, didn’t even care that I’d be wasting money on a hotel if I left, but then she convinced me to stay. Said she’d drop it and that we could go out for breakfast in the morning. So I stayed.”
It falls together. Before she tells me, it all falls together.
Her mom died when she was nineteen.
I curl my fingers into her sides. “Valentine.”
“She killed herself that night.” The tears finally fill her voice.
“Angel.” I kiss her head again.
“It was a shitty little one-bedroom apartment. And she told me I could have her bedroom and she’d sleep on the couch.” Her fingertips press into me. “I figured she’d just drink until she passed out, so I locked myself in her room and cried myself to sleep. When I got up in the morning, I found her sitting at the little dining table. Slumped in her seat. With an empty bottle of vodka and an empty bottle of painkillers prescribed to someone else.”
I can’t imagine. I cannot fucking imagine.
“Was she already gone?” I have to ask.
Val nods against me. “I didn’t realize at first. I thought she was asleep. But when I touched her shoulder… She was stiff.”
“Jesus Christ.” I stare over the top of Val’s head. I know exactly what happens to dead bodies, so I know exactly what teenage Val would’ve seen. “Did she leave a note?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
I close my eyes. “What did she leave?”
“Her stack of bills.”
“I fucking hate her,” I snap.
And I swear Val laughs a little.
“I’m serious.” I hook my leg over Val’s thigh. The hug doesn’t feel like enough. “If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her myself. You didn’t deserve that. Tell me you knew that you didn’t deserve that.”
Her hand flexes against my chest. It’s all she can do with how tight I’m holding her.
“A part of me knew it. I knew she was miserable, and no matter what I did, she’d always be miserable. But it was still hard, ya know? Because she set those there for me to find.” I feel her shake her head. “I’d been used to being on my own, but once she died… I really was.”
“I hate her,” I repeat.
Val’s exhale tickles my chest hair. “The second funeral I ever went to was my mom’s. And it turns out everyone else that knew her hated her, too. Because it was just me and the priest. Or, well, funeral director, I think.”
“You had a funeral?” I furrow my brows. “Should’ve just fed her to the alligators.”
Valentine snorts. “First, gross. Second, I was a stupid nineteen-year-old. I thought you had to have a funeral.”
“You planned it?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice. But I don’t know why I’m surprised. Like she said, there was no one else in her mom’s life that would’ve done it.
“Unintentionally. I called 9-1-1 when I found her, and the ball just kinda started rolling on its own. Her body was brought to a funeral home. The director called me and asked what I wanted to do with the remains and if I wanted to do the service in their hall. I just kept answering questions, and before I knew it, there was a funeral.” I make a mental note to look up this funeral director because if he’s still alive, I’m putting him in his own incinerator. “And then her landlord was demanding payment for rent she was behind on and that I deal with moving all her stuff out.” I addlandlordto my list.
“You paid for all that, didn’t you?”
“It was the second thing I spent my money on,” she admits, and I curse again. “I was worried I’d get in trouble with King over spending it on my mom. But he never said anything, so I figured he didn’t know.”
“Wait.” I pull back a little. “What do you mean?”
She leans her head back to look up at me. “What do you mean what do I mean?”
