Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Stop.” A huff. “Listen to yourself.” Pause. “He’s not answering because you killed him with your hateful words!” Her voice breaks and so does my heart. “He’ll speak to you when he’s ready.” Pause. “If you just show up, you’re going to upset him more.”
A sharp pain lances through my stomach.
Dad? Coming here? Fuck no.
“Yes, Garrett, you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re a surgeon as if I weren’t the one to raise your children while you built your career.” Another pause. “Your sorries come too late.”
I sit down on the bottom step, my hands shaking profusely.
“I’ll get him to the doctor. And if he wants you to know, he’ll take your call.” A pause. “Yes, I know you’re worried. We all are. Yes, I believe he’s anemic among other things.” A heavy sigh. “I’ve told you all the symptoms. He doesn’t eat. I hear him throwing up. No, I don’t think it’s an eating disorder.”
My stomach roils as I listen to my parents discuss what’s wrong with me. I feel betrayed by Mom, which is unfair to her. I can’t stop the feeling, however.
“Yes, I’ll let you know if the symptoms worsen.” She lowers her voice. “The girls miss you, but I don’t, Garrett. No matter what you say, it’s over. It has been since you slept with Serena.”
What?
“Goodbye, Garrett. We’re done talking tonight. I’m hanging up now. Bye, Garrett.” She lets out an annoyed sigh and then tosses her cell phone loudly on the table.
I stand and walk into the living room. Mom seems tired. As soon as she sees me, she brightens.
“Hey, honey. Feeling better?” She beams her fake ass smile at me.
“Yeah. You want to report back to Dad now?”
Her smile falters. “You heard.”
“Who the hell is Serena, Mom?”
“Come here,” she says, patting the sofa beside her.
I shake my head. “Just tell me.”
“Please, honey.”
With a frustrated sigh, I stalk over to her and plop down. She takes my clammy hand, kissing the back of it like she used to when I was small.
“Serena is a barista.”
“Dad slept with a Starbucks chick?” I ask in disbelief. “When?”
“Apparently often last year.” She sighs heavily. “I found out about it last summer. It came out when we were vacationing in Barbados. I’d picked up his phone and seen a text from her.”
I remember our last family vacation. I’d been so obsessed with Lucas that I wasn’t paying much attention to my parents. Dad seemed to be groveling. Mom was cold and standoffish. I’d thought they were just bickering.
“He said he’d break it off. He did,” she tells me. “He’d already broken us, though. I closed my heart off to him. He’s gone so much with work, the trust couldn’t be repaired. I worried about every female he came in contact with. It was headed for divorce and then…”
“And then I conveniently gave you an out,” I snarl, jerking my hand out of hers.
“No,” she says fiercely. “Your dad lost his damn mind and I did what I had to do to protect you. Our prior relationship had no bearing on the way he was treating my son.”
A strangled cry escapes me. “Mom, you let me think I was the reason you left him.”
“What was I supposed to tell you, Hollis?” she asks tearfully. “Oh, I know your father just broke your spirit and your heart, but let me also tell you what a shitty husband he was to me by sleeping with some college coffee girl.” She swipes a rogue tear from my cheek. “Honey, you were hurting, and I couldn’t add to it. It was all too much. I just had to get you and the girls away from him. He was spiraling and I didn’t want you all to get hurt anymore.”
“You should have told me,” I accuse, hating how pained my voice is.
“You’re right. I should have. I’m sorry.” She pulls me to her, and I go. I let my mom hug away the pain inside me. “I tried to protect you and it didn’t work. You’re hurting and you’re sick and there’s nothing I can do to fix that.” She kisses my hair. “I love you, baby, and you know that.”
I do.
I just need…
“We’re going to walk home,” Roan says from the stairway.
I look over my shoulder to see him and Roux standing there. They both wear guilty expressions like they overheard our conversation.
“I’ll take you home,” I grit out, rising to my feet. “I think I’m going to stay the night, Mom. I need some space right now.”
She nods and stands, giving me a sad look. Then, to Roan she says, “Please take care of him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s been over a week since my blowout with Mom. Roan and I are both on edge for different reasons. He’s waiting for the shoe to drop with his mom. I’m worried my dad is going to show up at any moment.