AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s my place to ask you that,” she says firmly. “Not the other way around. I can’t sleep thinking about it—all the things I missed. All the chances at motherhood, thrown away, injected into nothing.”
I clear my throat, struggling to stay tough, but I failed with Sam, and I’m failing here. Something about being intimate with Sam, even how we did it, has unlocked something within me. He knows I’m a virgin. Mom doesn’t even know that. We’ve never talked about romance.
“Don’t,” Mom says when I open my mouth. She puts her hand on my arm and looks at me solidly. “Don’t make an excuse for me, Katy. It’s the truth. We both know it. Now you’re scared because you think maybe your mother is back, but soon, she’ll be gone. But I won’t. I promise I won’t.”
“You’re doing great, Mom,” I whisper.
She blinks, tears appearing in her eyes. She knows I don’t believe her, and it breaks both our hearts. I wish I could make myself believe. A small flame could become an inferno if I let it, but it’s blazed before. I keep it where it is.
“You’ll see,” she says. “From now on, talk to me, okay? About anything. I’m here. I know you’ve always found it difficult to make friends because of me.”
I say nothing, my throat getting tight. It wasn’t just her, but there’s some truth there. Bringing friends home was always impossible. Eventually, they always wanted to know about home. So I stayed alone mostly or with Mom.
“But I can be your friend as well as your mom.”
I pull her into a hug. “You’ve always been both.”
She starts crying, clinging onto me tightly, sinking her fingers into me. “I can do it this time. I know I can.”
I hold her tighter. I want to say I believe in you, but I’ve said that before. I can’t do it again. My chest tightens as I think about all the chances we’ve missed and those still ahead of us.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too. So much.”
Back in the bedroom, I text, Wow, that was heavy. Did you hear?
A moment later, my phone lights up. I told you I’d give you privacy. I didn’t hear anything.
I’m alone again now. If he wants to watch, that’s what I’m hinting at. Screw it. I click send, then type another quick message. Mom is doing better. Part of me thinks she could really get clean this time.
You look sad, Katy.
That familiar-yet-new tingling feeling scorches over my body. It’s a unique combination.
I want to believe her, I reply. Tell me if I’m oversharing.
There’s no oversharing between us. My body shimmers at his words, my legs especially. Even now, I’m thinking about him watching me. If it makes you feel better to share, share.
I swallow, wishing he was here, but also terrified of it. It’s easier to talk over the console and far, far easier to text. Maybe I’d get all muddled up in person.
Has she always been an addict? he texts.
Just like that, my thumbs are moving, a reply forming. It started before my dad died, but I only learned that later.
I pause, thinking about what I could say. The window. The rain. The red. But I can’t share that. It’s locked inside of me. One day, with him, maybe… I keep typing.
It got really bad when he passed. She started going out, meeting her so-called friends, and leaving me alone for hours. Sometimes, social services got involved, but I always protected her. I love her. Really, I do, but I also resent the hell out of her. It makes me feel like a bad daughter.
It all comes out so fast. I stare at the message.
“Don’t delete it,” his husky voice groans.
I flinch, lowering my voice. “Is there a way to make that quieter?”
“A headphone port is on the side with a volume switch.”
“Wait a sec.”
I stand, go to my suitcase, and grab my old headphones. After a second of fumbling, I find the port. I whisper into the console. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah. Can you hear me?”
With the in-ear headphones, it’s like he’s right next to me. His voice sends shockwaves of want throughout my body. “Y-yes.”
“Don’t delete whatever you just typed,” he says. “You looked so passionate, so sincere. There are tears in your eyes.”
I rub them away.
“They look beautiful.”
I laugh drily. “How can tears look beautiful?”
“It shows how much you care. How deeply you feel. It shows what an incredible…” He stops, sounding almost pained, his sigh more like a growl. “Woman you are.”
Was he going to say something else? What?
I click send, glad he knows there are some things I’m not ready to say aloud yet. Texting is a wonderful thing for that very reason. The shield of words can lead to nastiness but can also lead to this feeling of freedom.
