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“And try being a confused eight-year-old little girl attempting to wake up your father, who has passed out in his own vomit and shit after being on a three-day bender. Go on,Mother,” I sneer, “walk a day in my shoes, and then have the nerve to tell me it was for the best.”
I am mere inches from Cynthia’s terrified face as she sobs uncontrollably, sliding onto the kitchen floor.
I think I’ve broken her.
She slumps against the cupboard, sobbing hysterically, and I look down at her with nothing but disgust.
“You have no right to cry. An innocent man is dead because of you!”
The mere mention of Hank has tears springing to my eyes. But I angrily wipe them away because my sorrow can wait.
Cynthia slowly raises her head, her face stained with tears. “I’m sorry, Mia. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, so am I. I’m sorry that I ever thought you were worthy enough to be my mother.”
I turn my back to her. Today’s therapy session is over.
Storming from the kitchen while Cynthia is an inconsolable mess may seem cruel, but it’s either that or I continue to divulge my past. And judging from today’s performance, it’s safe to say she’s had enough.
Charging up the stairs two at a time, I speed down the hall to my room before I totally lose my shit and go back for round two.
However, when I push open the door, my anger boils to the point of no return, and whatever reasoning I had explodes.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I demand. Polly sits on the edge of my bed, chatting with myboyfriend while patting mydog.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” she retorts, and her snide comment has me seeing red.
“Get out!” I storm over to her, seconds away from pulling out her long hair.
Polly must realize she has three seconds to move before I throw her out because she launches off the bed and hides behind Quinn, who has quickly moved to act as a barrier between us.
“What’s going on?” he questions, nothing but concern lining his face.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I spit, glaring at Polly, who cowers behind Quinn’s shoulder.
Quinn opens his mouth, no doubt about to give me a reasonable explanation, but I cut him off. I’m in no mood to listen to any more excuses.
“What is she doing in here?” I demand, pointing at her as I stalk forward, but Quinn’s huge frame stops me from moving any farther.
“She came in here to talk to you, that’s all,” Quinn says, bracing his hands out, attempting to stop my rampage.
“So why is she still in here?” I ask. “She could obviously see I wasn’t here, so what, you thought you’d entertain her while I was gone?”
Quinn looks beyond mortified at my accusation, and so am I, as I don’t mean a word of it. But I can’t stop the venom bubbling from my throat because everything inside me feels tainted and confused.
I feel like I’m losing it with every breath I take.
“You need to calm down,” Quinn says with a touch of hostility. He’s in no way impressed with my allegation.
“Don’t tell me what I need to do.”
“I’ll go, Quinn. Sorry for getting you into trouble,” Polly says in a soft voice from behind him, and I begin to shake in anger when I see her lips curve into a small, sinister smile.
“Don’t sweat it, Polly,” he replies, his eyes watching my every move.
“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you later.”
As I glare at her, her lips turn up into a full-blown snicker, and I now know that her plan to make me leave has everything to do with the one thing making me stay.
