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She exhaled, and I saw her smile fade. A real expression of sadness, anger, hopelessness clung to her in that moment. I knew what this was about before she even said anything.
My father. Michael.
He and my mother had married young. They’d been high school sweethearts, and I knew from enough reminiscing from my mother over the years that my father had been her first everything.
First boyfriend.
First love.
First kiss.
First everything.
So when things had gone downhill, my mother had taken it hard. The divorce hadn’t been amicable. My father had up and left my mom, taking a good chunk of their savings, and running off with the woman who would become his new wife. He hadn’t given a second thought to how this would affect my mother; probably even thought I was old enough to “get through it.”
He’d tried to smooth things over with me, spouting off about being in love and wanting to start his life.
It had all been bullshit.
He’d abandoned his wife and daughter for a young, new piece of ass. He’d married her shortly after he betrayed my mom and clearly had no regrets or shame about it.
And a part of me hated him for what he’d put my mom through, for how he’d hurt her.
“It’s about your father.”
Of course it was. Because even after the years that had passed, he was still fucking her over.
I walked up to her and gave her a hug. I didn’t know what this was about, but whatever it was had upset her enough that she felt the need to come all the way out here to see me.
I pulled back and looked at her, hating that she felt so lost. She put on a good front, though, and I knew she did it for me even though I knew how upset she truly was over it all.
“Whatever has happened, things will work out. They always do.” I took her hand and led us into the living room, and we sat on the couch. Her focus was on the textbooks and papers strewn along the floor.
“I’m sorry for just barging in like this.”
I shook my head even though she wasn’t looking at me. “You know you’re welcome here anytime. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to get home. School’s been kind of hectic.”
And then, of course, there was my affair with my professor.
Obviously I kept that to myself. That probably wasn’t a conversation we needed to have at this very moment.
“No, you should definitely focus on school. You shouldn’t have to worry about your mom dropping in because she can’t handle her shit.”
We sat there in silence for long seconds. I didn’t want to broach the subject again, figured she could tell me in her own time what was wrong. But then after a few moments, she cleared her throat and pointed to the textbooks.
“How’s school going, by the way?”
She was deflecting, stalling. She looked over at me and I shrugged. “It’s going.” I felt my cheeks heat as I thought about Lucian, wondering what she’d think, how she’d feel if I admitted what I was doing with my professor.
I ran my hands up and down my thighs, suddenly feeling so nervous. I saw the way she knitted her brows. My mother could read me well without me having to say anything.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “What’s going on with Dad?”
She leaned back on the couch and exhaled, suddenly seeming so tired. “He’s having another baby with Crystal.” My mother stared straight ahead, her unshed tears evident.
I was angry instantly, not because there was another baby coming into the world, not because he had left us to create a new family—because we were clearly not enough—but because my mom was hurting.
