AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can feel Derrick’s gaze on me from the other side of the kitchen, but I don’t dare meet his eyes over his mom’s shoulder. Whatever he’s making starts to sizzle, and he turns his attention back to the stove.
“Well, I guess it’s just fine that I didn’t have any time to get a second guest bedroom ready,” Beth says. “How long are you two staying for?”
“Just the weekend,” Derrick pipes up, flipping an omelet in a pan. “Raleigh was dying to meet you, but I do have to get the car back for repairs sooner rather than later.”
“Well, obviously I’m happy to see my one and only son,” Beth says, “and hisgorgeous girlfriend! He’s never brought home awoman, you know,” she adds in a playful whisper that Derrick definitely hears.
Oh… really? That’s just one more shock to add to the pile I suppose. But she hugs me again, and I forget a little of my confusion in the comfort of her arms.
CHAPTER 24
Derrick
Even though Raleighreally has nowhere left to run, I find myself watching her more closely than ever before. I’m waiting for her rude flippancy to rear its head, but when she speaks, she’s reserved and almosttoopolite. I’m hyper aware of the way her body never fully relaxes, no matter whether she’s sitting in a stool or standing. I’m observing the nervousness in her smile and eyes that she’s usually so good at hiding, except when she’s too damn terrified to bother.
She’s… unnerved by my mother.
It’s completely absurd to me, but I know that my mothercouldn’thurt a fly even if she wanted to. Raleigh doesn’t know her at all.
Is this her best behavior, or is it her most honest? Am I only seeing her differently because I know the truth now?
The truth.
I’m glad to see my mother, truly. It’s been a year at least since I was able to make a trip out here to visit. But all I want is to pull Raleigh into the first empty room and restart our conversation from the side of the road.
I want to tell her I was already struggling with the idea of letting her return to the Warwick estate- back when I thoughtthat was a thing she had any intention of doing- but now that I know we have a baby between us, I can’t bear to let her out of my sight.
I want to beg her to let me take care of her, to take care of our baby, to have a space in their lives and futures.
I want to touch her stomach, to press my ear to it, to see if I can feel or hear the tiny life growing there. A life I helped create, accident or not.
Just days ago I was thinking it was too late for me to have anything resembling a family of my own. Now it’s like the universe heard those thoughts and decided to give me the most inconvenient answer possible.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want it, or that I’m not about to fight like hell to keep it. Now that we’re here, I’m glad I didn’t have a chance to tell my mother in advance, or she might have gotten a second guest room ready.
I’m not going to be a gentleman and take the couch. I’m going to dig until I find out exactly why Raleigh wants nothing to do with me.
What she said about her family’s grudges is bullshit. Raleigh has spite in her, sure, but that’s not what’s driving her actions. If she truly hated me, she wouldn’t look to me for comfort, or melt when I touch her. She wouldn’t have handcuffed herself to me the other night because she didn’t want to be turned away.
No, what’s driving her is fear. Or it’s shame. Or it’s something else that she doesn’t need to feel, not with me.
I make us all vegetable-laden omelets for breakfast, and as we eat I distract my mother with my most recent exploits as a sheriff- all watered down so they’re not too upsetting for her. She doesn’t watch the news, never has, so I’m not worried that she’ll discover any of my lies. It’s almost a relief when Raleigh starts nodding over her plate, and I can make an excuse that we’ve been driving all night and need to get some rest.
Before we go upstairs to nap the day away, I give my mother one last lingering hug. Hopefully it’ll make up for all the times I’ve lied to her today alone, whether she’s aware of it or not.
I hate doing it, but what I hate more is bringing anything bad into a place we’ve both worked so hard to make into a haven.
“Thanks again, mom,” I tell her. “Sorry for the trouble. And sorry I haven’t called in a minute.”
“You’ve been busy,” she says with a warm smile, but I can tell she appreciates the apology. That twists the knife of guilt even deeper.
When I pull away, Raleigh is lingering at the base of the stairs. Not only does she need me to show her the way to the bedroom, but there’s something like yearning in her eyes before she turns her face away.
I remember Raleigh’s expression when my mother hugged her… it was like she’s never been held as tightly or as long as she’s really wanted to be.
We go upstairs in exhausted silence, but one look at the neatly made bed piled with crocheted blankets reminds me of an annoying fact.
“We should shower before we sleep,” I tell Raleigh. I’m not making my mother change sheets that smell like sweat once we leave.
