62. Ryker
62
Ryker
S he’s gone. I offered to let her stay the night and I’d help her get settled in her apartment tomorrow morning, but my stubborn girl refused. She wouldn’t even let me load the car. By the time she walked out the door for the last time, she was definitely in the anger phase of her processing. I stayed out of her way, but I’m not sure if that was more for my benefit or hers.
My heart has officially ripped in two, and it’s my own damn fault. There were about a dozen moments where I almost took it back. Her tears are my biggest weakness and all I want to do is fix her pain.
This time, I was the cause of it.
She thinks I’ve thrown her away. That she’s not enough. If only she knew how long I’ve had her back.
6 years ago
She jumps into the passenger seat of my car, and I can tell she’s irritable. I can’t say I blame her. Christine was acting like bitch of the year in there. It sickens me how she treats her own daughter.
“Thank you for driving me. Sorry for taking you away from Mom.”
“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. It’ll give her time to cool down,” I reassure her.
We sit in silence for a few minutes before I can’t help but ask, “So, a date? You haven’t mentioned anyone before. Is this new?” The look on her face right now tells me I should mind my own business. I’m not her father, I know that, but even after only being with her mom for six months, I feel protective of her.
“Yes, it’s new,” she answers. “We’ve been talking for a while and he finally asked me out. We’re going to see a movie and then to a party after. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything irresponsible.”
“I wasn’t worried about you. I’m more worried about him,” I explain. I remember what it was like to be a boy. Boys, and men, can be disgusting. “Guys your age don’t always have the best intentions and it’ll make me feel better knowing you’re safe.”
“Are you trying to have the sex talk with me? You do know I’m seventeen, right?” What the fuck?
“Jesus. I was referring to your physical safety.” I say, waving my hands in surrender.
“Oh. We’ll be in a public place, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry.”
“Well, I care about you, so worry comes with the territory.”
“Thanks for the assist with Mom,” she says, changing the subject. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s only going to make your evening with her harder.”
I’ll handle her mother. I wish she would speak up and stand up for herself a little more with her, though. Christine could use to be knocked down a peg or two.
“Don’t mention it. You could do it too, you know. What’s she going to do? She only has as much power as you give her. There was nothing wrong with what you were wearing. If you keep giving in to her, she’ll only keep taking.”
“It’s complicated and I know she means well. It’s her delivery that could use some work.” The thing is, I’m not all that sure she really means well.
“She could show it better, that’s for sure. Was she this hard on Axel?” I question.
“She tried to be, but Axel always pushed back. Those two are like oil and water. I can’t tell you how many times I ended up the mediator in their fucked up power struggles.”
As we pull up to the theater, I order, “Give me your phone.”
She stares blankly at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.
“Just give me your phone Arabella. I’m going to put my number in it. If you need anything, I want you to call or text. Got it?”
“Sure.” She hesitates but hands me her phone anyway. After a few seconds, I give it back to her and she scurries out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Ryker.”
“No problem. Have a good time, Arabella.”
By the time I pull back into the driveway, I’m both pissed off and frustrated. I run my hands down my face, knowing what I have to do, but also not wanting to deal with the drama I know is about to come along with it.
Stepping out of the car, I make my way to the door slowly, attempting to prepare myself for the verbal assault coming my way, because I dared to step between her and her daughter.
I pause at the sound of her talking. She must be on the phone, but who the hell is she talking to? Pressing my ear to the door, I listen.
“No, Wesley. You need to get it done. I have my annual disability review coming up and all the documentation has to be in order… if the state catches even a whiff of impropriety, they’ll put me in prison. What don’t you understand?”
Fucking hell, did she fake her work injury? My stomach turns. If I had any doubts about ending things, they’re gone now.
Walking through the door, I catch her fumble with her phone and pocket it quickly.
“Ryker,” she hurries up to me, placing both hands on my chest. I look down at them and wonder why I ever thought she was someone I wanted to be with. She’s superficial, vain and thinks she’s better than everyone else around her, including her children. “What took you so long? I’m getting tired. Let’s go to bed.”
“Christine. No,” I say firmly as I pull her hands off me. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
She plops her ass on the couch so suddenly, she almost bounces back off, and places her hands neatly in her lap.
“What’s this about?”
Taking the seat at the opposite end of the couch, I consider her for a moment.
Nope, there’s nothing there. No spark, no… nothing.
“This isn’t working for me, so I won’t be staying.”
She lets out a heavy gasp. “What? Why?”
“Aside from the fact that I now know you’re faking your disability? You’re pretty clever to get away with that shit for so long.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.” I don’t really give a fuck that she’s cheating the system, but I do care that it’s just another example of what a shitty person she is. “There’s also the part where I don’t love you and I think whatever this is, has run its course. The way you treat Arabella is hideous, and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t show their children all the love and support any good parent should.” I make sure to emphasize the ‘good’ in my reasoning, trying to drive the point home. Because Christine is about the farthest from a good mother as I’ve ever seen.
“But tonight–that’s just one time. Surely, you can’t break up with me because of one tenuous interaction between a mother and a daughter. Parents and children don’t always see eye to eye.”
Except it wasn’t just one time. I can’t even count on both hands how many times I’ve sat by and watched it happen, and I’m ashamed that it took me this long to speak up and do something about it.
“You and I both know, it’s not just this one time, Christine,” I chastise. “If I have children one day, I want them to have a mother that shows and tells them every day how precious they are. How loved they are. How worthy they are. How just existing and breathing the same air is enough. A mother that never withholds their love for selfish reasons. They should never question how much they’re loved and cherished. That’s just not how you operate and I won’t sit by and watch it anymore.”
“Fuck you, Ryker,” she yells. “Like I would ever want to have children with you anyway. All they do is suck out your souls and drain you dry. They’re leeches. I should have sent that bitch daughter of mine with her father, when he left. But he wouldn’t have wanted her either. And you don’t know the shit I went through to get myself here. Do you have any idea how much money he took when he left? I make more money on disability than I ever did at my nine to five.”
I can see we’re at the shouty petty betty stage of the breakup. I could continue fighting with her about this, but what’s the point?
I’m already over it.
“Goodbye Christine. Say hi to Wesley for me.”