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“What’s wrong? Where the hell were you last night?” she asks. Her face is puffy from crying.
“Scarlett and I went for drinks, remember?” I remind her as I walk past her and into the kitchen.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Well, your dad keeps asking why you aren’t responding to his messages. I told him you were probably asleep.”
“Which dad?” I scoff.
She rolls her eyes. “The one who helped make you.”
I glance at her while I grab a glass of water. I don’t get why he always contacts her if I don’t respond. Can’t he tell I’m ignoring him?
“Mom, he treats me like shit. I don’t want to respond to him all the time.”
“I’m not saying you have to.” She crosses her arms and walks into the living room like she owns the place. I roll my eyes and follow her, sitting down next to her on the couch.
“You need more wall art or something. The place echoes.”
“Buy me some then.”
“You have a job, don’t you?”
“Yeah, not enough money to get wall art. What am I supposed to do, use my looks?”
“If that’s what it takes, then yeah.” A smirk appears on her face.
“Mom!” I let out an exasperated chuckle. There was silence for a few moments. I know she’s worried about Dad—the one who isn’t my blood relative but treats me as his own. Her lip quivers as she fumbles with her jacket. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“How are you doing?” I ask.
She looks up at me with a frown.
“Just trying to keep my head up.”
I nod, unsure of what to say.
“Well, I’m going to head up to the hospital. Do you want to come with me?” she asks. Her eyes are bloodshot from her tears. I don’t know how to face him without tears forcing themselves out like a reservoir breaking through its dam.
“I’ll come by later. What room is he in?”
“Floor 7, room 204.”
“Okay, I’ll call you when I head over.”
I stand up and offer her my hand. She takes my hand and stands up, pulling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around her, trying to keep the tears from breaking through.
“I love you, Momma.”
“I love you, too.”
She walks out of the front door, closing it behind her.
And that’s when the tears come.
CHAPTERSEVEN
I reachfor my phone and tap Scarlett’s name. I press the call button with trembling fingers, desperate for her comfort. After a few agonizing rings, it goes to voicemail.Damn it, she must be asleep.I sigh in frustration, feeling the weight of the world crushing me. I step outside, lock the door behind me, and settle into my car.
