Chapter 18
Chris
“Thank you so much for tonight, dinner was great.”
“You’re welcome anytime, dear. I’ve put some leftovers into a Tupperware for you – you just have to pop them in the microwave.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to…”
“Thank you so much, that would be great,” Evan jumps in, shamelessly grabbing the tub from her hands. “It’s not like we cook every day at home.”
Jesus, this is embarrassing.
Thankfully, Karen laughs.
“Come back whenever you want, son. I’ll be here,” her husband says to Evan.
“Sure,” he responds, just as he always does when he tells me he’s going to do something that will never happen.
“Are you okay to drive? Ryan would be happy to take you home,” Karen continues.
“Oh, I’m absolutely fine. I didn’t drink that much.”
Evan lets a few coughs slip. He’ll pay for those at home.
“Ryan, walk Chris out to her car.”
“But it’s two steps away, out in the driveway!” He complains.
“I didn’t bring you up to be so rude.”
Ryan scoffs, but opens the front door, gesturing us outside. I wave goodbye to the O’Connors and step outside. The cool night air immediately makes me shiver.
“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Evan says, leaving us alone.
Shit.
“Well, thanks for tonight.”
“I didn’t even invite you.”
Why does he always have to be such a dick?
“You don’t need to accompany me over to my car, I know how to walk by myself.”
“Haven’t you drunk a bit too much, like the other night?”
“I’m fine, Ryan. Anyway – it’s none of your business.”
“You have your son with you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of looking after my own son.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Goodnight, Ryan.”
I storm towards the car and get in. I start up the engine and pull out of their driveway.
“Please, try not to hit that wheelie bin, or we’ll never get out alive.”
“Shut up, you’re distracting me.”
Evan holds up his hands and nods at Ryan.
I pull out onto the road and head home, finally starting to relax a little.
It’s not that the evening wasn’t enjoyable – just that being near Ryan always makes me feel a frustration that I never feel otherwise, something that only arseholes like him can bring out in me.
I switch on the radio and play the first station I find.
“So… this Ryan…”
“Drop it.”
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“Mmm… shame.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, from the way he was looking at your arse, I’d say he likes you.”
“Evan!”
He shrugs.
“He’s annoying, self-centred, and… rude. Obnoxious, too. I can’t stand him.”
“Okay, okay, calm down.”
“Was he really looking at my arse?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But was he judging it, or admiring it?”
“I’d say he looked like he couldn’t wait to—”
“Evan! This is me we’re talking about here!”
“You asked.”
“You didn’t have to go into detail.”
I’m a terrible mother.
We sink into silence until we’re parked in front of our house. When we get inside, I kick off my shoes and take off my jacket, heading straight for the fridge.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Evan asks from behind my back, arms crossed.
“I just need another half a glass.”
“Mmm…”
“What?”
“You don’t like him – do you?”
“Absolutely not,” I nearly shout, slamming down the bottle. “Come on, Evan.”
“What?”
“Have you seen me?” I ask, suddenly insecure.
“I see you every day.”
“I’m a mess. Some days I ask myself how I’ve managed to bring up a son like you without messing you up, too.”
“Maybe because you’re a beautiful mess.”
I smile at him, gratefully.
“You’re only saying that because you’re my son.”
“I’m saying it because I know what I see and I know who you are, Mum.”
I hug him tightly. “Thank you, darling.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you fancy watching one of those terrifying Netflix shows?” I ask him hopefully.
“But you don’t like them.”
“But you do, and I want to stay up with you for a while.”
“I have school tomorrow.”
I take a look at the time. “It’s eleven. Come on, just for half an hour – one episode.”
“I’ll grab the popcorn.”
As I watch him look for the bag, pour the popcorn into a bowl, and get himself a drink, I tell myself that it’s fine like this – we don’t need anyone else. And I definitely don’t need to lose my mind over a bastard like him.
No, absolutely not. I’m fine. We’re fine.
So why is it that, when I get into bed at night, my last thought is of two strong arms wrapping themselves around me?