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“You were just a kid, and from the sounds of it, I don’t think your dad would want you to blame yourself.” My heart ached for her and the little girl she used to be.
“No, he wouldn’t. He never blamed me. Not once. When I was little, I tried to wait it out. Wait for her to forgive me, but she never did.”
“What was she like before he died?”
“She wasn’t the greatest mom. Dad and I annoyed her a lot. She always told me to be quieter or wanted me to go outside. She hated the rain because Dad never wanted me to be outside in it. Her and Dad would be cuddling on the couch, and I would sneak out after my bedtime. Dad would laugh and let me cuddle with them for a bit, but it always made her upset.” She shook her head. “I don’t think she ever wanted me.”
This was something I couldn’t relate to. I never felt unwanted by my parents. Even after Dad died, Mom never made me feel like she didn’t want me.
“Do you miss her?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “There’s nothing to miss. She was barely a mom to me. I don’t miss her at all.”
There’s a loud knock on the door first thing in the morning. It startled Wren so badly that she launched out of my arms and curled herself into the corner of the bed, pressing herself against the wall.
“Wren, it’s okay,” I said calmly, trying to force the sleep out of my voice. “Kevin is in the hospital, your mom isn’t around anymore,” I reminded her.
Her green eyes shot around the dimly lit room, looking for the threat. Eventually, she peeled herself off the wall, her hand going to her chest and taking a deep breath.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
The knock sounded again and I got out of bed, shoving jeans on over the shorts I’d slipped into last night before going to sleep.
“Who the hell is that?” I asked, knowing she couldn’t answer the question.
Wren pulled on the first pair of sweats she could reach and a hoodie. I watched her tie her hair into a quick bun on top of her head.
We both walked to the front door. Wren stood off to the side a bit, and I unlocked the door, opening it slightly.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” the feminine voice spoke, causing my stomach to drop.
Shit!
Amanda, Jon’s younger sister, stood on the other side of the door, dressed in a skintight blouse, a bra that pushed her cleavage almost to her neck, and skinny jeans.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” She took a step closer to the cracked open door. I brought my arm up, bracing it against the adjacent wall, and rested my forehead against it.
What the hell was I going to do?
I could feel Wren’s eyes boring into my back. I had been avoiding Amanda for the last few months. Today was the worstday possible for this. Not when Wren and I had plans to deal with her mother today.
“Hold on.” I closed the door and turned to face Wren.
Wren’s bottom lip was pushed out slightly, concern on her face. “What’s up?”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like a two-timing piece of shit even though I wasn’t in an actual relationship. I hadn’t told Wren about Amanda because there was no reason to. We weren’t in a relationship. We hooked up a few times at parties and she started coming around my place every so often.
Jon never cared so it wasn’t an issue in our friendship.
Why the hell was she here so early?
Because you have been avoiding her at school, dumbass. Of course she would show up when she knew your fucking mom could be home any minute.
“That’s Amanda. I. . .used to date her. . . Sort of.” I didn’t want to outright say I used to have sex with her. I didn’t want to bring up any unpleasant memories. “I’ve been avoiding her at school, and it looks like I can’t avoid her any longer. Do you mind if I talk to her real quick. . .alone?” I felt like shit. I was asking Wren to leave her own home, the home I’d drilled into her head that it was just as much hers as it was mine.
I watched a dozen different emotions cross her green eyes. Surprise, confusion, understanding. . .
“What about our plans?” she asked. Remnants of last night's conversation filtered through my head.
