Chapter Eleven
Pushing my headphones off, I pause my music at a muffled noise and listen for another. I thought I heard something, but I know I am alone in the house. My mom is at work, and Wyatt left soon after to do whatever he does. I read in the sun, setting up under the kitchen window with a towel and a cushion from the patio chair.
“I don’t understand what’s going on, Wyatt.” My mom’s angry voice carries through the open window above me.
A rock drops into my stomach. I knew this was going to happen eventually. In the week since I’ve gotten home, my mom and Wyatt have both made themselves scarce, but for different reasons. I know my mom is stuck with an extensive project at work, but Wyatt seems to only want to come around the house at night. They don’t know I’m out here, and I know I should leave to give them privacy for whatever they’re going to say, but I’m frozen to the ground.
“I already told you, Mary. It’s nothing. Just not feeling up to it,” Wyatt replies.
Her scoff is loud. “Since when? Before you left, you never turned me down. And now it’s been over three weeks since you’ve touched me.”
My mouth drops open at her confession. A smug happiness swirls in my chest. I don’t like to think about the nights that Wyatt doesn’t sneak into my room, preferring to be ignorant of what might be happening down the hall.
A sigh rings out. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“That’s bullshit. A stupid excuse men use when they don’t want to fuck you,” my mother spits out.
A weird jealousy stirs in my heart. She’s fighting so hard to fuck her husband. I won’t even be surprised if Wyatt caves just to appease her, but I hate her for it. Even if she had him first.
“Really, Mary? And the days you don’t want to have sex because of work? Should I be accusing you of spewing bullshit?” Wyatt says, the annoyance in his voice loud and clear.
It’s silent so long that I’m tempted to peek through the window to see if they’re still there. But fear of what I might see stops me from doing that. Finally, there’s another long sigh and the click of heels that move closer to the window.
“Whatever, Wyatt. I’m just saying I’m sick of it. I have needs too.”
She doesn’t wait for his reply as the door to the backyard slides open, and she closes it behind her. My mom moves to stand against the wall next to the door, out of sight of both windows. Pulling a pack out of her pocket, she lights a cigarette as she stares up at the sky and smokes it.
I watch her for a moment, a strange sadness aching inside me. There were so many times growing that I wished she cared. Half the time I was convinced she didn”t care about anything or anyone but herself.
She startles when she notices me, holding a hand to her chest.
I give her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
Taking a long drag of her cigarette, she stares at me for a moment before walking over to sit next to me. “Sorry you had to hear all that,” my mom says.
I shrug, my nose wrinkling at the smell. I’ve always hated that she smokes. “It’s okay. I didn’t want to draw any attention. Sounded like an important conversation.”
She snorts, rolling her neck as she lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother dating at all. You’re still young, if you learn anything from me, it’s that you need to know your worth.”
Her words lash at my deepest insecurities. I’m not so naive that I don’t know that what Wyatt and I are doing makes us horrible people. But it doesn’t feel horrible in the moment, when we’re together. It feels right, as if this is how it’s supposed to be.
“Why did my dad leave?” I ask suddenly.
My mom pauses, unnerved by the question before clearing her throat. “He wanted more kids. And I… didn’t want any.”
Something like despair flickers in my chest. “But he left me.”
My mom swallows, tossing her cigarette onto the ground and squishing it before running a hand through her hair. “Your father… you have to understand I gave up so much for him. It was never enough. And I even had a kid for him when I never wanted any, and at the end of the day, he still left me.” She exhales slowly and shakes her head. “I couldn’t let it go. He deserved to have everything he ever wanted taken from him.”
My mouth dries, my stomach clenching in hurt and confusion.
“What are you saying? That you kept my father from me?” I nearly flinch at the pained hoarseness in my voice.
Her jaw tics. “I’m sorry, Sophie. It wasn’t fair on you, but he just didn’t get to live his perfect life while leaving me behind. He wasn’t going to get his perfect daughter too.”
I push onto shaky legs. “Are you saying he wanted me? And you said no out of spite?”
“It’s not that simple. He wasn’t willing to compromise.”
“Compromise on what?” I ask, clutching my laptop to my chest.
“Money. Visitation.” She shrugs. “The more time he wanted to spend with you, the less money he was willing to give. Just because we were young didn’t mean I didn’t deserve alimony for what I put up with. You’ll see when you get older and marry the wrong man. You deserve every cent coming to you.”
I blink at her, angry and frustrated that she doesn’t see what she’s saying or how she sounds.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“If I was in a court battle, and it came down to my child or money, I’d always choose my child because I know what it looks like to have a mother that chooses money,” I spit out.
Her eyes widen. “Sophie!”
I wipe the lone tear that falls and stomp past her into the house. Wyatt is standing in the kitchen as I come through the door. His face is pale and his fist is clenched where he’s leaning on the counter. His gaze latches onto mine, a mixture of fury and pity swirling in them.
“Baby,” he whispers softly, and my eyes water more. I shake my head and scurry past him towards my room.
He catches up to me on the stairs, his hand curling around my elbow. “Hey, don’t run from me.”
I turn, pushing my face into his chest. “I just want to be alone.”
Wyatt lifts me into his arms the next second, carrying me up the remaining stairs and to my bedroom. “Let it out, sweetheart. Whatever you’re feeling.” He settles us on my mattress, and I’m clinging to him as I start to sob.
“I don’t know why I’m so upset,” I get out between hiccups.
“Sometimes there’s not an answer for why it hurts, it just does,” he says softly, pulling me closer. Wyatt lets me cry, cradled in his arms till I fall asleep.
His fingers comb through my hair till my breathing calms, and my eyelids are heavy. I don’t know how long it is till I’m jostled as he gets up, draping a blanket over me. He presses a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be back later, okay? Get some rest.”
My chest aches for an entirely different reason as he leaves me, a reminder that at the end of the day, I’m still alone.