47. Arabella
47
Arabella
6 years ago
M om’s been crying for the last 48 hours straight, since Ryker left and I’m starting to worry. It’s never a good thing when she spends this much time in one emotion. I knock gently on her bedroom door.
“Mom, can I come in?” She doesn’t answer, but I know she’s in there. I can hear her sobbing from out here. Slowly, I turn the handle and push, causing the door to creak lightly on its hinges.
She’s sitting on the floor in the corner with her knees drawn to her chest. At least if she’s sobbing, she’s breathing. Silver lining, I suppose.
I crouch next to her and place my hand on her leg, rubbing my thumb in slow circles to try to soothe her. When she looks up, she’s almost unrecognizable as she glares at me with pure contempt and disdain. “You did this. I know it,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Mom, what are you–” she cuts me off with a sound that falls somewhere between a tsk and a hiss.
“Everything was fine before he took you to your stupid fucking date. He came back and ended things with me right after he dropped you off. What. Did. You. Do?”
Her eyes narrow to thin slits as they try to focus through the tears.
“Are you fucking him?”
“Mom! Jesus Christ, no!”
“What… you can’t get a boyfriend your own age, so you take mine?” Her words cut through my heart like a dull blade, tearing more than it cuts. “I didn’t know I raised such a slut.”
I may only be seventeen, but I know what an overreaction looks like and this is clearly it. But I tell myself she doesn’t mean any of it and I sit next to her, pull her in tight, and hold her through her tears.
“It’ll be okay, Mom.”
Ryker
Present Day
“She apologized shortly after, but we didn’t talk about it after that day. At least not for a while. And I wouldn’t exactly call it talking. More like random jabs at me over the years, like she’s reminding me that all her issues since, are my fault. Because you left her.”
Fucking Christine and her guilt trip bullshit. I’ve worked hard to try to undo twenty three years of damage she inflicted on her own daughter… but this? This is on a level I couldn’t have seen coming. She knows damn well my leaving had nothing to do with Bella. Not really, anyway.
“My sweet girl, you… are not responsible for your mother’s well-being, emotional or otherwise. She’s a grown ass woman, capable of taking–or not taking–care of herself, if she so chooses.” I reach across the table to caress her hand. “Regardless, she knows you had nothing to do with us ending. She needs to move on and let go of the past.”
Christine knows why I broke up with her and it pisses me off that she’s holding it against her own daughter like this, especially after all these years. I suspect she’s just using it to manipulate and bend her will to suit her own selfish needs.
“I want to tell her about us,” she blurts out, changing the subject. “Just not until after her birthday, if you’re okay with that.”
I’d push her to keep talking, except this is supposed to be a fun evening. Continuing to discuss the intricacies of Christine fucking Bradley and her ongoing manipulation of her daughter, will surely drag the mood down.
“It’s fine. Tell her whenever you’re ready.”
I slide my chair out from the table and reach to pull her closer to me. Her eyes find mine as she reaches up to place both arms loosely around my neck.
“Can we watch our movie now?”
“Of course,” I answer with a peck on her cheek. “You grab the gummy bears and I’ll make the popcorn.”