Chapter 12 #3
“I don’t know, I’m not sure what I expected when I received your message. I suppose if I were in your shoes, I’d want some compensation, payback?”
“I’m not after your fucking money!” I snarled.
“OK,” she shot back, distressed by my sudden surge of temper. “Well, revenge then, some way to get back at me?”
My head tilted as I attempted to read her thoughts, crack them open, and drag out those secrets. I knew she was uncomfortable, but hid it well. “Creating waves in your picture-perfect family doesn’t gain me anything.”
Her lip twisted as she said with a head tilt. “How about a mother?”
I couldn’t stop my automatic smirk. “I already have one of those, and it isn’t you.”
She didn’t like that, interesting. “I see. OK. What do you want then?”
It suddenly felt hot in the room, and my skin was on fire.
“Why? Why did you leave me at the center?”
After a few beats of silence and a stare-down, she replied. “I can’t imagine you’ll believe me, but I did it for you, Phoenix.”
“You abandoned me for my own good? How the hell does that work?”
“My life was a mess, I’d screwed up so much, I wasn’t fit to be your mother. The first few years of your life were proof of that. You were better off without me.” She glanced down at her hands, which were still in her lap, and started toying with her rings.
The loss of eye contact pissed me off as I growled. “How can a child be better off without his fucking mother?” I came around the sofa, my hands fisted at my sides.
My words and actions caused the woman to rise warily from her seat, her arms outstretched as she glanced at the open archway which had brought her into the room. “Please keep your voice down,” she hushed.
My smile was mean and spiteful. “Why, worried my little brother might hear something nasty about his perfect mommy?” I said in the same tone, glancing behind her.
Luna’s shoulders slumped, but she remained standing. There was just the corner of the coffee table between us now. “How did you know?”
“Oh, I know all about you and your family.”
I decided to take the seat she’d offered earlier, throwing myself onto the cushions.
The leather creaked with my weight as I leaned back.
“My file from the agency had some information. Once I had your surname, I did some digging of my own,” I explained whilst rudely placing my feet on her perfectly polished coffee table.
“I don’t understand. What file?”
“The file that contained details of my sordid background, my paperwork, ID, shit like that. The agency handed my file to my foster mother. She, in turn, gave it to me.”
She looked down her nose at my boots, but didn’t say anything as she retook the seat opposite. “Are they allowed to do that?”
“GDPR. If it’s my data, it belongs to me.”
“But why would there be details of my marriage and my son in there?” she asked, clearly upset.
Shrugging, I replied. “I have no idea and couldn’t give a shit really.” I wasn’t going to give her my sources, let her stew.
Closing her eyes, my mother took a deep breath. When she opened them, I saw a hint of vulnerability. It still didn’t make me feel like a dick.
“You were about to tell me why you abandoned me?” I prompted, folding my arms.
She dashed a shaky hand down her face and then looked at me. “As I said, I was at the lowest point in my life, Phoenix. I’d already messed up the first few years of your life by moving around so much; I was in hiding. I couldn’t hold down a job, and I had no family or friends.”
“What do you mean? Hiding from whom?” I noted that she didn’t answer that question.
After a brief pause, she carried on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “When they took you away from me, it killed me, but I knew you would be better off. It was always my intention to get back on my feet and then come back for you.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I did for a couple of months, but then I found work and missed some of our sessions.
I was trying to get my own place, somewhere safe and clean.
Social services used my non-attendance as a black mark against me and started the foster process without my consent.
They got a court order that removed you from my care permanently.
As soon as I had gotten back on my feet and raised the money, I had every intention of fighting it.
But when I saw who you were fostered by and how settled you were, I knew I needed to walk away.
I still had nothing to offer you, at least nothing like Mr. and Mrs. Fox had.
” Her voice trailed off towards the end, and her face had become pink; the first bit of real color to occupy the space around us.
I was surprised she remembered the names of my first foster parents.
I slid my feet off the table and leaned forward, propping my hands on my bent knees. “How about the man who fathered me? Couldn’t he have helped you? I assume I didn’t come with the stork.”
And that did it; cast a proper cat among the pigeons. My mother’s face was apprehensive. What the hell? Luna cleared her throat. “No. There was no way I could have gone to him for help, not then.”
Should I have held my tongue and not been so aggressive with her? What if my old man had been abusive?
The color had left her cheeks. So, the guy who knocked her up was apparently a sore spot. I felt a twinge of regret. Maybe I was overplaying the victim, especially if my mother was one herself. I was being a bastard without giving her the chance to explain.
But then what type of mother leaves a child, even in an abusive scenario?
A bad one.