Epilogue
Mama Liked the Roses
Six months later…
Aaron sat rigid at the cold metal table, tracing small circles on its surface with his fingers.
The surrounding tables formed a strict pattern, each one resembling a square island beneath a sea of humming fluorescent lights. Back tense, his every nerve was on edge. After the invasive search, the probing questions, and the shuffle down the long, featureless corridors, he felt like part of a herd, corralled with the others who filled the room.
Children giggled nearby, their voices light and carefree, considering where they were, but Aaron kept his head down, tugging at the cuffs of his hoodie and he ran his thumb over the new fabric, soft and grounding. He’d smile, but he couldn’t feel it right then. So he pushed a hand through his pink hair, ruffling it back and taming it again, pretending he cared about appearances here, in a place like this, under lights that highlighted every flaw, every jagged edge. As if those who’d be coming through the double doors at any moment would even care how he looked.
She would.
He knew that much about her, at least.
What he didn’t understand was why he was playing up to it.
The doors swung open, and he froze. The scuffle of feet scraped against the floor, and a figure stepped through. His pulse quickened, a pounding echoing in his chest as the footsteps grew closer. When the chair opposite him dragged out, the sound scraped across his senses like nails down a chalkboard. He couldn’t look yet. He wondered if he ever should.
Eventually, he lifted his gaze, and a heavy breath caught in his chest. Because there she was.
Roisin.
His mother.
Her smile took time to form, slowly, almost reluctantly, as though she were piecing together his face from memory. She knew he was coming. But he was here under a different name. Another alias. Another bunch of paperwork gone missing. Her expression was full of a shock, though. One he’d rarely seen in her photographs. In his memories. He doubted she had many people on this side of the visitor’s table, either. Maybe she expected that one day, he might be curious enough to evade the authorities to be here.
As usual, she’d been right .
Lifting a hand to her chest, her fingers trembled over the thin fabric of her worn T-shirt. The soft, knitted cardigan hung from her shoulders, a strange sight on a woman he remembered as powerful, poised, someone who had moved through his childhood like a force of nature. Now she resembled a faded version of herself, the elegant frame swallowed by clothes too plain, too small for her presence. But that glint in her eye—that was the same. And it lingered, assessing him.
He checked his hair again.
“You are simply beautiful,” she said, then waved to the woman on the table next to her. “Helen, look at him. Isn’t he the most striking thing you’ve ever seen?”
Helen, in her drab grey joggers and jumper stating HMP Ashbridge, grimaced over at Roisin, as if she’d never spoken to her in her life. Roisin didn’t notice, nor, Aaron suspected, care that her inmate hadn’t agreed to her assessment of him wholeheartedly and returned to her monthly conversation with her visitor. Roisin wouldn’t care. The world outside her perceptions rarely mattered.
She slid her gaze back to Aaron, intense and unblinking, as if she were trying to memorise every line of his face. He shifted under her stare, feeling like a specimen under glass, her approval laced with a touch of hunger. As though he reflected her own design, a creation she could mould to her whims. He certainly wouldn’t be launching into a reunited embrace, though. Even if the little boy inside him urged him to do just that.
Ask her to sing!
“Tell me,” she said, voice dipping lower, almost conspiratorial, “do the girls adore you?”
Interesting choice of question. She would know he didn’t care for the girls. But that wasn’t what she was asking. Nor the intent of her question. She wanted to know if he worked his charm across the genders. As she did. “I don’t notice.”
“Oh, don’t be coy.” She leaned in, the glint in her eyes sharp, probing. “You’re brighter than the sun, and they must see it. But the pink hair?” She clucked her tongue, eyes narrowing. “And the diamond in your nose? Defacing your natural perfection is quite the insult.”
He fought not to flinch under her scrutiny. He knew, in some deep, unspoken way, this was a test. A measured game in which her words were weapons, probing for weakness.
“And what about this?” She pointed at his neck, to the small Mars symbol peeking out from under his hoodie. “A tattoo?”
Aaron touched the ink, covering his fingers over it protectively. “I like it.”
She cocked her head, scrunching her nose in distaste. “It means male, doesn’t it?”
“It means I’m my own person.”
Roisin laughed. “Your own person?”
Aaron clenched his jaw.
“Oh, darling! How eccentric. I love it!” Her voice spoke otherwise. As if it was lip service. And it made Aaron wonder if it was all lip service. If she meant any of her endearments, or she simply used them to her advantage. “A symbol is only as powerful as the meaning behind it. And don’t shrug like that. Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. Only you can decide. Or…” She leaned back, her eyes glinting with something unsettling. “Or those who made you.”
Aaron seemed to sit up straighter, as if reprimanded.
Roisin smiled. “What am I to call you?”
“Aaron.”
“Aaron…” She rolled the name around her tongue as if tasting it. “Hmm. We’ll see if it suits.” She then glanced over to another table, where she waved at yet another woman. “Tracy? What do we think of Aaron ?”
The woman peered over, gave a grimace at Roisin, then turned back to her family.
Roisin barely seemed to register the slight, eyes glittering with an undeterred confidence as they drifted back to Aaron and she tapped her chin with her finger. “Perhaps it will grow on me.” She then leaned forward over the table, a wry smile. “Tell me something extraordinary about yourself. Something only I should know.”
“I’m at university.” She already knew that from Drew, though, didn’t she? That’s what he was here to find out. If what Drew had told him was right. That she was orchestrating him carrying on the family business.
Her face lit up, feigning astonishment, her words breathy. “My brilliant boy!” She tapped the table. “Didn’t I tell you? Destined for greatness! I always knew.” She leaned closer, like a spider luring its prey. “It’s in you to be something extraordinary .” Roisin then twisted in her seat to the table behind her. “Sharmaine, we have a genius here. A certified genius ! Brains and beauty.”
The younger girl behind shook her head, continuing her conversation with her visitor.
Aaron took a shallow breath, sensing an opportunity to ask what was clawing at his mind. “Is that what you wanted? For me to be exceptional?”
Her eyes sparkled with a chilling gleam. “Oh, you were always going to be magnificent.” Her words were almost hypnotic. “You’ll be exactly who you were meant to be.”
“And if that’s not who you want me to be? Would you be disappointed?”
She tilted her head, smile fading, voice laced with quiet intensity. “How could I ever be disappointed? You are my masterpiece. Only I understand you. Only I know the depths you can reach. I made you. Only I could have made you who you are.”
“And if I don’t fulfil the family legacy?”
“The family legacy?” Roisin laughed. “ Antiques ?”
She wouldn’t admit it. Not even to him. “Did you do all those things they said you did? The reason you’re in here?”
Roisin blinked. Like a robot. “Of course not, darling.”
“But Drew—”
“Oh, yes, I heard some dastardly things about him .” Roisin shuddered, wrapping her cardigan around herself. “He did always give me the creeps. Pathological liar, too.” She dipped forward, her voice low. “Could never tell your father, of course, but he had such an infatuation with me.”
“He used to come to our house.”
“Wasn’t it awful ?” She tutted. “Frank insisted. All the time.” She sighed. “We now know why.” She waved a hand. “But let’s not talk about such unpleasant things. I want to know about you . Tell me, with that pretty face, is my boy in love !”
Aaron had to laugh. How she could skate over murder and mayhem as if it was nothing to ask him such a trivial question.
Although, it wasn’t trivial. It was the very thing plaguing his mind for the few months since everything had happened. Since he’d left Kenny’s doorstep and thrown himself into Taylor’s open arms. Since Kenny had put a professional boundary around them by palming him off with a therapist of his choosing, having their sessions in an office off campus. Kenny drove him to and from there each week and so the only time they’d been alone was in his car. It had been torture . Because Kenny, true to his word, had slipped, cruelly and effortlessly, into a platonic relationship with him. They’d only had the one near miss so far, when Aaron had tried to change the song on the stereo and Kenny had meant to slap his hand away, instead holding it for a second too long. Aaron had smirked. Entwined his fingers with Kenny’s. And Kenny let him. Eyes on the road, he’d held his hand the rest of the way.
Thank whomever for automatic cars.
Kenny had also supported him in the case against Drew. Aaron had been a witness for the prosecution, giving evidence behind a screen, enabling him to keep being Aaron. So he could remain on his course. Stay with him. And that also confused the fuck out of Aaron about how Kenny felt . He was getting mixed messages. Because Kenny was keeping his distance. Hadn’t kissed him. Touched him. Despite Aaron knowing he wanted him. And he had a holiday planned in a couple of weeks, leaving Aaron to fend for himself. Aaron tried not to think about that. Because it hurt too much to think Kenny was trying to get away from him. Which made him wonder about the whole love thing. Did love hurt?
In his experience, yes. Yes, it did.
Was he in love with Kenny?
“I’m seeing someone,” Aaron said. “Early days.”
Was six months early days? Was having spent Christmas with Taylor’s family early days? Was letting Taylor call him his boyfriend early days? It was for Aaron. Even if Mel also called Taylor Aaron’s boyfriend. But he still hadn’t given everything to Taylor and knew, deep down, he probably never would. But for now, it kept him from standing outside Kenny’s house.
From creeping closer to him in the car…
Okay, that one was a lie.
They were all lies.
Once a stalker, always a stalker.
“You know no one will ever love you how much you need to be loved,” Roisin said, smile fading and a hint of threat. “No one can .”
“Why not?”
“Because no one knows you. Not really. How can they ever?”
“Who am I?”
Roisin smiled. Grinned. Shook her hair back. “You’re my gorgeous, precious boy. Only I can love you.” Roisin hovered her hands near his, fingers curling as if to capture him. “You were only born to love me .”
Only born to love a psycho, huh?
A guard approached, tapping his baton on the table, forcing her to pull her hands away from him. She did, slowly, a smile playing on her lips as if the interruption hadn’t happened at all. She watched the guard retreat, then turned back to Aaron and titled her neck.
“You are someone only a mother could love.”
Well, that was a backhanded compliment if Aaron had ever heard one.
Yet it had wormed its way into Aaron’s subconscious years ago, and he believed it. How could anyone love him? Because he was hers. He’d endured beatings, sexual assaults, violations and abuse all because he was hers. And all by people who were supposed to care for him. Each time forcing him to build those walls to keep everyone out. If Taylor found out who he was, he’d expect the same treatment.
Kenny didn’t even want him, not now he knew he was hers.
“You must never give yourself to anyone.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper, words a chilling threat wrapped in a promise. “You are far too pretty to share yourself. No one will appreciate you.” A hint of the devil crept out before she recovered with a grand smile. “Don’t let them win.”
“Who win?”
“All of them. Everyone who’s already placed their bets.”
“On what?”
“The game.”
“Game?”
“Yes, darling. The game .”
Aaron couldn’t ask anything else because a bell sounded for the end of visitation.
“You’ll come again, won’t you, darling.” Roisin stood. “You’ll come see me.”
She didn’t frame that as a question, so Aaron didn’t offer an answer. Because they both already knew that this wasn’t the end of things.
Perhaps merely the beginning.
Coming March 31 st 2025
HERE