Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Illias
“And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.”
Tuesday’s incident looped in his mind like a broken record.
No matter how loud the music was, how hectic the bar got, nothing drowned out Cantrell’s request for distance.
Illias slipped into his work persona—a facade he perfected over years of working as a server—and flirted with reckless abandon.
Lost himself in drink orders, nameless faces that looked at him like he was their next meal, and curious hands that touched just a little too rough.
None of it was enough to distract from the twisting, thorny pain in his gut or the remorse that had its claws hooked in his chest.
To make matters worse, his mom continued to ask to see him, and he was out of plausible excuses.
Without a reason to decline her latest invite, Illias agreed to meet her at her favorite cafe.
It was a small, family owned joint that his mom discovered before she became pregnant with him.
She would bring him down to the cafe at least once a week when he was old enough to sit at the tables and color while she read.
Being back in the rustic style coffee shop brought back memories of simpler times.
Times before playing with other kids at Sunday school became sitting in hard wooden pews and being forced to sit still for an hour.
Before he understood what damnation and sin was.
Before Henry started looking and treating Illias like a pest.
Illias spotted his mom in the back corner of the cafe and walked over to her. “Hey Mom.”
“There you are.” She stood and pulled him into a tight hug that made something in his chest hurt. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Which was true, he hated avoiding his mom but he hadn’t been ready to talk to her about Henry. Still wasn’t. “How’re you?”
They parted and sat. “I’m okay, hon. Things are still rocky at home, but I think Henry and I are on the path to getting better.
” She picked up her coffee but didn’t take a drink.
“It’s been…difficult, to say the least.” She smiled sadly.
“But we’re both trying our best to move forward and figure things out. ”
Illias frowned, slumping in his chair. “I probably didn’t help any when I came over.”
“Don’t think for a second that any of this is your fault,” she scolded, the way mothers do.
“You were a child, hon,” her voice softened.
“And I was young and blind to a lot of things. But I promise, I won’t be blind to those things anymore.
That’s why things are difficult. Not because of you or anything you’ve done. ”
His eyes and face grew warm. A thick lump formed at the base of his neck. “I was such a pain in the ass growing up though. Always in some type of trouble and—”
“Because that’s what kids do,” his mom interjected.
“Kids are meant to get into trouble and make a mess of things. Just because you were a little rougher around the edges doesn’t mean you were a bad kid.
” She reached across the table and Illias took her hand, squeezing gently.
“You were going through stuff that we didn’t know or didn’t understand.
But”—she held his hand tighter—“I see you now.”
Illias turned his head to the side, blinking quickly. “I thought moms weren’t supposed to make you cry unless you were in trouble,” he joked, voice strained and watery.
“You used to cry a lot when you were little too.” She rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. “Glad to know some things haven’t changed about my baby.”
He let out a choked laugh and shook his head.
Of course she’d bring that up. It was true though; he had always been a crier.
Wore his heart on his sleeve for most of his life until he got it broken one too many times.
Taking a shaky breath, he looked back at her and asked the one question that was weighing on his shoulders.
“So, you’re not mad about the Henry situation? ”
“No, I understand why things are the way they are between you two. It’s not my place to judge you or push you to have any sort of relationship with him. Not unless it’s something you want. Just know you’ll always have me on your side.”
He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
“I’ll always be there for you baby, no matter what. Now”—she nodded towards the counter of the cafe—“go get us something to eat and get yourself a drink so we can do a proper catch up.”
He smiled and nodded, thankful to have something to do to calm himself down.
At the counter, he ordered a lemon croissant for his mom then a chocolate tart with caramel drizzle and a medium iced hazelnut coffee for himself.
On his way back to the table, he wondered if Cantrell liked coffee and pastries.
The thought of asking him out crossed Illias’ mind and he nearly tripped over his own two feet. His cheeks burned.
Oh, I am so fucked.