65. Arabella
65
Arabella
W hat’s that sound? Is someone knocking on the door?
“Go away,” I yell. Although I’m not sure they can even hear me from my bedroom. I hear the faint rumblings of an argument in the distance as I pull the comforter over my head to shield my eyes from the sunlight and try to block out whatever noises are coming from the hallway.
My front door slams a few minutes later and it’s at this moment I decide playing dead is my best option. Well, not dead… asleep, but I sleep like the dead, so it’s basically the same thing.
“Arabella Bradley! Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Bed.” Wrinley pulls the covers off me in one swift motion and my eyes pop open at the intrusion. Oh great, she didn’t come alone.
Fucking bitch.
“Wrinleyyyy!” I whine while trying to pull the covers back up. “Leave me alone, please.”
“Arabella, knock it the fuck off.” Axel. This is none of his damn business. “Seriously, when was the last time you showered? Or took out the trash? It looks like a Taco Bell tornado went through the living room, for fuck’s sake.”
“Seriously?” Wrinley chastises my big brother. Good luck with that Wrin. My brother has always done whatever the fuck he wants with no consequences. “We talked about this. You’re supposed to go easy on her. Not insult her the second we walk through the door.”
“Whatever. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. She fucking stinks. I can smell her from here. No offense.” Some taken.
“You both need to shut the fuck up and get the fuck out. Since when do you two do anything civil with each other? You hate each other.”
They regard each other for a moment, before Wrinley speaks up. “You’re right. You’re brother’s an asshole, but we’re worried about you. No one has seen you in weeks, and it looks like you’re halfway to hoarder status,” she explains as she sits on the edge of the bed. “I called Axel and asked him to come with me for backup. You need to get up and get dressed.”
“It’s not like anything matters anymore, anyway,” I mutter under my breath.
“Did you forget about Mom’s birthday dinner?”
I did forget.
“Yes,” I answer plainly.
“Okay, well, it’s tonight. And I’m not going alone.”
“Why did you wait this long to remind me?”
“Honestly?” he asks, eyes wide like he’s shocked at my question. “I was fine letting the day go by. I don’t really give a flying fuck about her birthday. But Wrinkley here insisted we stage an intervention and it’s as good a reason as any to get you out of this goddamn pig pen. So wash your… parts and put some clothes on, so we can go. Preferably clean ones.”
“I told you not to call me that, asshole,” Wrinley mutters through gritted teeth.
Fuck my life. Of all the things I could be doing, celebrating my mother is at the very bottom of my list. But, while I’d never admit to Axel that he’s right, I do kind of smell.
“Fine. Give me an hour.” I roll my eyes at them both for good measure, because I don’t want them to misconstrue my cooperation for compliance. This is conflict avoidance 101 at best. If I go, I’ll at least appease mother to keep her content and off my back for a little while longer.
“Tell me again why I can’t drive myself?”
Axel practically shoved me into his truck and Wrinley fucked off to god knows where.
“Because, little sister.” It’s not lost on me how he emphasizes the word little. Such a dick. “I don’t trust you to actually show up at this point. Even dinner with Mom has to be better than you fucking sulking in your goddamn bed for days on end.”
“That’s what you think,” I mutter under my breath.
We pull up to our childhood home moments later, and dread sinks low in my belly. We never did talk about Ryker’s accusations after that night, but this will be the first time I’ve seen her since she found out about him and I. I know I’ve probably hurt her, but it’s not like I planned any of this. The heart wants what it wants, and all that.
“Get out of the fucking truck, Arabella,” my brother orders. Jesus, when did he get so fucking bossy.
As we approach the front door, I pause to check my outfit. A habit I think I’ve had all my life. I don’t really desire to poke the bear today, so I went with baggy everything, since she’s always criticizing me when I wear anything form-fitting. I pull at the hem of my baggy sweater to move it down and cover my ass, because she’s always hated it most when I showed off my biggest asset.
Tears start to form behind my eyes as I remember how much Ryker loved my ass.
Everything she hated about me, he loved. Loves? I don’t know anymore.
“Hey,” Axel reaches out, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, but don’t let her see you cry. She’ll grab on to any weakness you show her, so suck it back in before we go in there.”
I shoot him a quick glance and a nod, because he’s right. I can’t show her my cards. So I wipe my tears with my sleeve and we walk inside.
“Can you please tell her dinner is ready?” I ask Axel as I start setting the table. My brother can have that fun job, since he’s basically useless in the kitchen. I love how we made this plan–well I made the plan–to cook her dinner, when I’m the only one that did all the work.
When we got here, she sulked around the house in “pity party” mode, like someone kicked her non-existent cat.
Debbie Downer, party of one!
Despite her shitty attitude, she hasn’t brought Ryker up, and for that, I’m grateful.
Eventually, Axel sent her outside to stew in her own misery until dinner was ready.
“Heads up, she’s on her way,” Axel warns. Concern is written all over his face as he helps put food on the table.
My anxiety is through the roof. I both smell her nauseating perfume and hear her aggressive footsteps before I see her, but I can’t bring myself to acknowledge her or even look at her.
I’ve never felt more pathetic than I do right now.
“Nice of you to dress up for the occasion, Arabella.” Really?
I let out a long breath, but I bite my tongue in time for Axel to speak up. “Happy Birthday, Mom.” Smooth.
“Thank you, son.” Her voice is sickly sweet and it makes me want to vomit. She’s never paid him any real attention, but of course he’s getting all the love right now. She’s trying to prove a point. The point that I’ve hurt her so deeply that she can’t even afford me any real affection. Not that she ever has.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to be the bigger person… for tonight.
For her. For her birthday.
We can resume this grudge match tomorrow.
“We made your favorite, Mom. I hope you like it.” What I really want to say is… I made it. But once again, I keep that to myself.
“Who said this is my favorite?” The way she says the word this is full of disgust, as if somehow the spaghetti and meatballs on her plate have personally offended her. “You both know what my favorite is and it’s not this. Honestly, who eats big balls of meat like this?”
Axel chokes like he’s trying to hold in a laugh and I shoot him an icy glare.
“Mom. You’ve always loved spaghetti and meatballs. At least that’s what you’ve always said.”
“Are you calling me a liar, Arabella?” Is she being serious right now? “Cause if I’m not mistaken, there’s only one liar at this table. You might want to look in the mirror.”
Uncomfortable silence fills the air as we sit and I absorb her harsh words. My chair squeaks against the hardwood floor as I push out from the table to stand.
“You’ll have to excuse me. I need a minute.”
“Arabella,” Mom bellows. “You better stop right where you are, young lady.”
Young lady? Young fucking lady? I turn and regard her for a moment to watch her stand from her seat, before redirecting my gaze to the ground at her feet. “I’m not a young lady,” I whisper.
“What was that?” She questions as she steps into my space. I thought her voice was hard before, but it’s completely cold now. Void of emotion.
“I didn’t quite hear you, daughter .”
I lift my chin to look her in the eyes. A silent challenge that I’m not able to vocalize. She picked the wrong day to fuck with me. “I said I’m not a young lady.” This time my words cut through the silence, firm and unmoving.
“You’re right. You’re not a lady at all. You’re an immature, little whore that couldn’t keep her legs closed for her own mother’s trash.” As if her words weren’t enough, she takes the opportunity to drive her distaste for me home, as she pulls back her arm and backhands me.
The pain radiates through my cheek, as her knuckles make direct contact with my cheekbone. “I can’t believe he broke up with me because of you.”
My hand flies up to cradle my cheek, that I know will have a bruise. My mother has always been cruel, but she’s never hit me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know he broke up with me because he was soft on you and thought I was too hard on you.”
“I didn’t know for sure, but I do now,” I mumble under my breath. “Is the rest of it true?”
She stares at me blankly, defiance in her eyes, refusing to answer me. There’s truth to the concept of knocking the sense into someone, because I don’t think I’ve ever had more clarity than I do right now. Suddenly, I see her so clearly. She’s so small, afraid, and self-conscious.
She’s so fucking miserable and wants me to be just as miserable.
But I don’t want to be miserable.
I’m a good fucking person, despite her attempts to ruin me.
How have I been so stupid all these years?
I realize now that Ryker was right. He was my safety net, my beautiful crutch. I was never going to break free from my mother’s manipulation, as long as I kept running to him so he could nurse my emotional wounds every time she knocked me down.
Only I can stop the cycle.
I straighten my spine and place my feet firm underneath me.
“No.” She throws me a look of sheer confusion, like she doesn’t recognize the word. Before she can speak and spew more bullshit, I continue. “I don’t want to fucking hear it, Mother. All my life, you’ve given me shit for everything. From the clothes I wear, to my weight, to what I make for dinner. I know you’ve been through some shit in your life, but that does not give you the right to treat your own daughter like fucking garbage.”
Grabbing the hem of my sweater, I pull it over my head in one swift movement. Thankfully, I wore a tank top underneath. It’s not particularly warm in here, but my elevated heart rate and the blood boiling in my veins will keep me warm enough.
“Arabella–” she starts, but I stop her before she can continue.
“Shut the fuck up Mom. I’m not done.” That felt surprisingly good . “I love my body. I look amazing in clothes that hug my curves and I’ve found a man that also loves my body. You may have dated him six years ago but rest assured… he was never yours. I am smart and can do anything I want, despite you telling me all my life that I can’t. More importantly, I am worthy of love. I always thought you loved me, but didn’t know how to show it. The truth is, I don’t think you know how to love… period. And that makes me sad for you.”
Her mouth opens wide, like she wants to object, but I have twenty-three years worth of words I was never brave enough to say. But the rest don’t really matter anymore. I’m fucking done.
“I am enough, Mom. Just the way I am.” I enunciate each word, just to drive the point home. “And Ryker can give me something you never could. Unconditional love.”
This is the freest I’ve ever felt in my life. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I’m floating weightless above the ground. There’s nothing left to hold me down.
“Axel, can I take your truck?” I need to get the fuck out of here.
“Fuck, no,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’ll drive.”