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“Sorry, buddy,” I reply as I stand up from the bed and walk out to the cabinet where I keep the medicine. I measure out the appropriate amount for him and snatch a Popsicle out of the freezer on my way back to the bedroom.
When I return, he’s staring up at me with a disgruntled expression and flushed red cheeks.
“Here’s the deal. If you take your medicine, you’ll get this.” I produce the purple Popsicle from behind my back, and his eyes instantly light up.
Immediately, he tries to bargain with me. “Just a little medicine, though.”
With a stern look, I quickly shake my head. “Nope. You have to drink it all.”
This goes on for far too long. Our negotiation turns into an all-out battle, and I feel myself losing control minute by minute. I’m trying hard to stand my ground as he begs, whines, and barters for any deal that would mean he doesn’t have to drinkallthe medicine.
Madame Kink doesn’t have to put up with this shit.
“All the medicine or no Popsicle, Jack!” I say firmly when he tries to cry his way out of it. He’s kicking his feet dramatically, and I feel like I’m losing the battle. I hate having to yell, and I immediately regret it.
My phone is ringing on the counter in the kitchen, and it only adds to my irritation.
“Fine!” he shouts, letting big, pitiful tears roll down his cheeks.
I swoop in, afraid he’ll change his mind. I quickly hand him the medicine and watch him gulp it down. Then he looks up at me with an angry scowl as ifI’mthe bad guy.
Unwrapping the Popsicle, I hand it to him with an impatient huff. So what if I’m bribing him and spoiling him? He took the medicine, didn’t he?
It’s like I’m arguing with a silent critic in my head who tries to remind me I’m the worst mom on the planet.
Immediately, he looks content, so I flip on the TV and turn it to his favorite cartoons. Then I kiss his head and leave him in my bedroom, where he’s likely to get melted Popsicle juice all over my sheets. Honestly, at this point, I’m too tired to care.
After tossing the wrapper in the trash, I perch my elbow on the counter and rest my face in my hands. It’s hard on days like this not to feel like a constant failure. Everything that goes wrong in Jack’s life might as well be my fault. Every illness, every tantrum, every misbehavior, it’s all on me. And it will always be on me.
It’s better than if we had stayed.
That’s the only viable argument I have. During the worst of my day-to-day struggles, I’m constantly reminded that being a single mother is far better than raising my son with that monster. My ex-husband never hesitated to lay his fists on me, berate me for every mistake, and call me the worst names in the book until I felt like the lowest form of dirt on the earth. I can’t stand to imagine what he would have done to Jack.
It’s not even nine in the morning, and already my mind feels bombarded. There are too many things happening at once—Jack’s fever, Ronan’s texts about the job, the pressures of being a single parent, and, oh yeah, giving Clay a blow job last night at his new girlfriend’s request.
I’m a mess.
And Emerson wants me to run that club? I can hardly handle my life as it is. Madame Kink might appear like she has her shit together, but Eden is drowning.
Lifting my head up from where I’m slumped against the counter, I shuffle my way to the coffee maker. I’m going to need more caffeine for this existential crisis.
By the time I get a full pot loaded and ready to go, my phone is ringing on the counter again. I snatch it up and stare at the name on the screen, but it takes a moment too long to register who is calling me.
Clay Bradley
Why is Clay calling me?
I let my thumb hover over the phone screen for a moment, contemplating whether or not I’m going to answer this. I know I shouldn’t, but I find myself hitting the answer button regardless.
Who am I kidding? I was never really contemplating it.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hi,” he replies immediately. It sounds as if he’s in the car, white noise buzzing in the background.
“Can I help you?” I ask, my tone dripping with curiosity.
“I’m checking on you.” He says it so astutely, and I know he’s serious, but I laugh anyway.
