Chapter 12
Gage
Since I had an inspection this morning in Romeo, I didn’t get up early or try to stop by the office. No point, what with me having to be on the road by nine, so I slept in a little. Might as well.
I was also trying to avoid my phone, if I was being honest.
I deliberately avoided looking at either my call or text history before I hopped in the shower.
I continued to ignore it afterward. In fact, I ignored it right up until I was dressed, hair gelled, and eating a breakfast of cereal and coffee.
Only then, with coffee and sugar in my system, did I finally drag my phone closer and take a look.
I felt about as enthusiastic as I would about jabbing a needle into my eye. Needs must, I guessed?
I needed to know what kind of reaction my mother had to last night’s events to know how to handle it.
Well, to start with, I had about twenty missed calls. From her and Cooper, but mostly her.
With a sigh—because let’s face it, the text messages would be worse—I opened my texts. Yeah, as expected, there were a lot of messages.
Mom: Gage where are you?
Mom: Answer your phone.
Mom: Why is Zar picking up Cooper, that’s YOUR responsibility.
Mom: Zar wouldn’t even talk to me, just threw Cooper inside! Like he’s trash!
Ooh, good job, Zar. I’d buy him a cookie later.
Mom: Why are you doing this? He’s your baby brother!!!!
Mom: Gage answer your damn phone.
Mom: ANSWER YOUR PHONE
She carried on in this vein for a while before she texted a three-paragraph wall of accusations, crying, and guilt trips.
Wow, the manipulation was thick enough to slice and grill.
She must have been determined. I, for one, didn’t have the patience to text that many words.
I’d switch to email and a keyboard for anything over three sentences.
My brain was disassociating right now, as I felt no emotional response to the words she’d sent me.
Or my give-a-fuck had finally broken down.
Either way, I felt almost analytical as I read through her wall of text.
Yeah, nothing in there was worth saying.
It was all guilt trips and manipulation tactics.
Things that used to work on me but no longer did.
Shaking my head, I kept her muted and finished my breakfast. I focused on getting myself out the door with all my stuff, loading into the truck.
I entered the address into the GPS on the dash and pulled onto the highway, as Romeo was a bit of a trip for me.
Nothing too bad, about an hour’s drive from where I lived.
I charged a travel fee for anything over an hour, as traveling for more than that generally wasn’t worth my time.
But this was within parameters and a repeat client—a real estate agent I’d worked with in the past. For her, I didn’t mind the trip.
Something about driving helped my brain unwind. I thought a lot during drives like this, letting my mind consider things from all angles.
Logan was right about how I’d become the emotional punching bag for my family.
I guessed Cooper had learned this inability to face his own problems, his own choices, from our mother.
She certainly couldn’t seem to shoulder any responsibility.
What had made them this way? I didn’t get it, I really didn’t.
I’d be horrified if I left a responsibility in another’s hands, even accidentally. Doing it on purpose was...wow.
They could manage paying their bills, working, all of that.
They just didn’t want to. They wanted me to do it.
Was it easier to browbeat me into doing everything for them?
I wouldn’t have thought so, considering how resistant I’d become in the past year to helping them with anything.
Did they keep pushing out of habit? Or because they hoped I’d fold again and do everything for them, because that was more convenient?
Well, they were wrong.
It was probably time for me to communicate that.
I’d never known anyone who’d gone low or no contact with their families except Asher.
Of course, Asher had done so in a very dramatic, public way.
Thankfully, the rest of my friends had good parents and families, so they weren’t dealing with this kind of crap.
I didn’t know if there was a right or wrong way to talk to my family.
I knew how I wanted to handle it. I wanted to communicate with them where they had failed me and how our relationship was going to look from now on.
I pressed the button on the dash to call my mother’s number and let it ring, mentally rehearsing my opening line.
She picked up quickly. No doubt she’d hovered around her phone all morning, waiting for me to call her back.
“Gage! You and I are going to have words, young man!”
“I’m going low contact with you.” Might as well cut to the chase. Besides, this way it’d cut short any tirade she wanted to unleash.
Her breath caught in surprise.
I didn’t give her a chance to recover. “I’ll lay this out simply for you.
First, I’m tired of being your emotional punching bag.
You always flare up at me when Cooper does something wrong, like it’s my fault somehow, and it never is.
His actions are his own, and I will no longer bear any responsibility for them.
Second, I’m tired of being a pseudofather to my own brother, and a pseudohusband to you.
If you’re that unhappy and alone in your marriage, then get a fucking divorce and find someone else, but stop treating me like I’m your husband, like I’m responsible for you.
I won’t give you the openings to act this way anymore.
I won’t be in charge of your yard maintenance, I won’t take your car in for oil changes anymore, I won’t make phone calls on your behalf to straighten something out.
It’s your life, you’re responsible for it, and it has absolutely nothing to do with me. ”
“Gage, what’s gotten into you, this isn’t like you—”
“Shut up. I’m not done.”
Another shocked breath, which amused me in a bleak sort of fashion. I’d never talked back to her before. My mistake. Maybe if I’d done this before, she would have realized how badly she was treating me. It was sort of a moot observation now, as it was years too late.
“Low contact means I’m not going to come to Cooper’s rescue anymore.
I’m not coming to yours. I will not respond if you come to my door.
If, and I do stress if, you manage to behave and not keep trauma dumping on me, then I might see you for Christmas.
But you’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces.
By earn, I mean actually be a responsible adult for once in your life and don’t try to contact me. Is that clear enough for you?”
She was crying, the tears obvious in the rough quality of her voice, the way her breath hitched. “Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!”
“It’s not the version of me you want, for sure, but I’m tired of being what you want.
You’ve worn me out, Mom. I no longer have any care for you.
I don’t think I even love you anymore, that’s how badly you’ve treated me.
For the record, Cooper acting the way he does is a good fifty percent our fault.
Yours, primarily, but I accept responsibility for my part, too.
I enabled him instead of letting him figure life out. Like I had to figure life out.”
She openly sobbed now. Then she screamed in rage and frustration.
I cut the call. No need to listen to that and abuse my poor ears.
She called back. I hung up immediately, having nothing else to say to her. She called back just as fast, and we played a wicked fast game of pop-up calls for a minute until she finally paused long enough for me to hit the mute button.
I blew out a breath and sat there, introspective.
When I’d planned out this conversation last night and this morning, I’d expected to feel a lot of things: sadness, resignation, maybe shed a few tears myself.
This was emotionally hard, cutting myself off from two people my entire world had revolved around for years.
My entire life, in fact. I felt this ache in me, this void, as I let go of everything I’d held on to for years.
Then I drew in a breath and found I could fully breathe. I no longer felt a crushing weight—that fear of disappointing people or the fear of ruined plans. Of being called for some emergency.
I felt relief.
Honestly, I hadn’t felt this light, this liberated, in years. Funny, how we carried around prisons of our own making in our heads. I’d always had the ability to break free, but it had taken Logan to give me the strength.
My friends had always been supportive, always given me the right advice, but somehow it had never sunk in.
Their words had never touched me deeply enough to make me change.
Logan, though…Logan knew. He knew from his own experience, and he was able to break it down in such a way that reality penetrated.
Thanks to him, I found the strength to let go.
Harder than it sounded, for sure, but I was so glad I’d done it.
Cooper called me next, and I answered because I wanted to talk to him directly too. If it was Mom calling, I’d hang up and mute his number as well. I couldn’t bring myself to fully block either of them, but muting meant I could ignore them.
“Bro,” Cooper greeted, and woah, he sounded hungover. “You gotta call Mom, she’s sobbing on the couch like someone died. What did you say?”
“I’m going low contact with both of you.”
He sucked in a startled breath before blurting out, “Because I got high?!”
“No, Cooper, because I’m tired of being treated like your father when you’re not my child.
I’m tired of being treated like her husband.
I’m tired of you two interrupting my life all the time because you can’t get your shit together.
I’m exhausted and it’s entirely your fault.
Listen to me—I will not pick up the phone for you anymore.
If you get high at a park or land yourself in jail, you can figure it out.
I won’t see you even if you come to my door.
If you succeed or fail, that’s on you. I might see you on Christmas, if you and Mom can get your acts together, but that’s very much an if.
In the meantime, don’t contact me. I won’t answer. ”
I ended the call and muted him, too.
Phew! I was proud of myself for laying it all out with Cooper. Strangely, I was angrier with him than my mother, even though I knew she was the root cause. Still, Cooper was an adult—supposedly—and he should have taken responsibility for himself. He bore some of the blame.
Wow, I felt even lighter now! Like a lodestone had been lifted off my chest. My stomach no longer churned either. There were days I’d felt nauseous from stress, almost unable to eat, because of those two.
Well. I might get myself a little treat on the way back into the office. After this, I felt I deserved one.
Hopefully my mom and brother would hear what I’d said and not show up at the office or my house to try and strong-arm me. If they did…Well, I had a Zar, and I knew how to use him.
The inspection went well. Nothing turned up problematic, and I was able to sign off on things on the spot, which made my client quite happy. I sent her an invoice before leaving, and she promised it would be paid before end of day.
I got a text from Asher, letting me know they were going for lunch at Lulu’s, asking if I could make it. Perfect. I texted back I’d meet them there and drove straight to the diner. A slice of peach pie would be the perfect little treat for me today.
Pulling into the lot, I saw Asher’s car, so I knew I’d timed it right.
I sauntered in, placed an order, then spotted Asher, Riggs, and Cohen sitting at our usual table.
Asher spotted me in the same second and waved a hand to catch my attention.
I lifted mine in return, then weaved my way around people, busboys, and chairs to get there.
Riggs, still in work mode, greeted me with “Inspection go well?”
“It did, in fact, and invoice was sent. Expect payment before end of day.”
“Excellent.”
I slung myself down into the booth next to Asher and found both Cohen and Asher regarding me with this sort of puzzled expression. “What?”
“You look strangely lighter? More chipper? I can’t put a finger on it,” Asher said.
“Ah. Well, there is a reason. I went low contact with Mom and Cooper this morning.”
Asher’s eyes, swear to god, just about fell out of his head. His reaction was so comical I almost laughed, but then he threw his arms around me and hugged me tight.
I hugged him back, grinning. Yeah, that had been super nice to say.
“I’m so incredibly proud of you.” He drew back, hands lingering on my shoulders, eyes searching my face. “What happened to push you to it?”
“I’m wondering the same,” Cohen admitted.
“Although we’re proud of you, too,” Riggs hastily added. “But yeah, what happened?”
I explained my thought process, how Logan and I had talked and why his words had impacted me so deeply, finishing with “I can’t let them ruin my life.
I can’t risk Logan. I realize we’re still in the beginning stages of dating, but I see so much potential, and I can’t risk my possibly happily ever after because my addict brother can’t clean up his own shit.
I’m not my mother’s husband, either, and it’s about time she put on her big-girl panties and straightened her own life out.
I’m just done, I guess. I only regret not doing this sooner. ”
“I’m glad you did it now.” Cohen reached over the table to pat my shoulder, eyes warm with pride. “I’m glad you chose you, for once. Logan’s an amazingly good influence on you, to get you to see that. To get you to act on that.”
“He truly is.”
“Now I can’t wait to meet him.” Riggs pointed a stern finger at me. “He is coming to the next session so I can meet him. I insist on this.”
I gave a mock-salute. “Yes, sir.”
“Good answer. Now, lunch is on me. I’m rewarding you for good sense.”
“I want pie.”
“We’re all getting pie,” Asher declared. “This is worth celebrating!”
Warmth spread through me, seeing their support, and I knew I’d made the right decision. I was determined not to break my low contact rule unless something went wrong.
It better be drastically, horrifically wrong. The usual shenanigans would not move me.