23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Joss
W e’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch while I fiddle with the hem of Wes’s hoodie. He’s quietly watching me, giving me the space to talk when I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this. The way he never talked about Brenna… That’s how I am with my mom. The difference being that his silence lasted less than a year, and mine has been going for seven.
I pick up my glass off the coffee table, taking a fortifying sip of liquid courage, and lock all my emotions up tight so I can get through this. Then I start at the beginning.
“My dad left when I was fourteen. He had an affair, and another daughter as a result. He started another family and I… I haven’t heard from him since. He chose them over us.”
“Shit, Joss, I had no idea. I’ m so sorry.”
I shake my head. I don’t want his pity, especially on this. That’s just a small part of the story, and if he’s feeling sorry for me already, things will only become more difficult as I keep going.
“It’s okay. Well, no. It’s not.” I huff out a breath, my shoulders sagging. “But it’s not your fault, and honestly, that betrayal was just the first of many.”
He reaches across the couch to grab my hand and gives it a light squeeze. When I finally look at him, that pity I thought I heard has been replaced with concern. He’s giving me support so I can keep going, and it feels like everything.
“After he left, my mom… She didn’t cope well. She moved us around a lot, trying to find me a new dad .” I add air quotes, rolling my eyes at the idea. Wes stays silent, and it gives me the strength to continue. “I went to five schools in four years. We moved from one man’s house to the next—Melbourne to Adelaide, and just about everywhere in between. My mom was always so sure that each would be the one . They never were.”
It always made me so mad how she pretended it was all for me. In reality, she wanted someone who would provide for her. Whether that extended to me was just a bonus.
“The first few guys weren’t too bad, but they got progressively worse. The last one before I turned eighteen took the cake. I don’t know what exactly he did to keep himself and my mom living the lifestyle they had, but I suspect it wasn’t above board.”
The memories of that house weave through my mind. “I can’t tell you how often I stayed with friends or slept in my car just to avoid being there. The number of times I slept in the back of the surf shop I worked at—something I never told the owners. It’s a wonder I was never arrested.” I shake my head. Those weren’t details I’d planned to tell Wes. The fact that I’m about to share the next part makes my heart rate spike and blood pound in my ears.
“Just before I graduated high school, there were some things I needed from the house, so I went home after school. That day, my mom was out but Tom was there.” I gulp down air and slide my wineglass onto the table as my hand starts to shake. Wes sees it and envelopes it in his, anchoring me. I lock eyes with him, seeing the fear etched there, of what I’ll say if I keep going.
“When he realized we were alone, he made a pass at me. He… he grabbed for me.” I shudder, tensing up, but Wes’s hand holds mine steady. “He must’ve thought he’d be able to overpower me, but he was drunk and I was fast. I was out the door and in my car before anything could happen. I never went back. I stayed with a friend for the last few days of school, and then right after graduation, I got in my car and put Adelaide in my rearview for good.”
The rage rippling off Wes is palpable, and I have to look away. I’ve refused to give the memories the power of making me cry, and I plan to keep it that way.
“I’d already set up an interview in Sydney for a job with Qantas, so I drove the fifteen hours straight through to get here. I wanted to leave all that darkness behind me, and when the opportunity to train as a flight attendant came up, I gave it all I had.
“My mom eventually tracked me down. The car was registered to their insurance, and I still had my phone that they paid for. I’d left everything else behind in that house though, so I had to start over from scratch, make my own way.”
I rush to get the next part out. “When I told my mom what happened, I expected her to leave him, to finally stand up for me, to rage and rush to defend her daughter. She didn’t. Instead, she blamed me. It was my fault that he’d kicked her out. It was my fault she lost everything.”
I sigh, wanting to just be done with this story. “I guess Tom didn’t like being made a fool of, and that was how he felt when I got away. I’d wondered why my mom hadn’t shown up to my graduation. It turned out she was angry I’d cost her her meal ticket.”
When I put all the pieces together, the despair and loneliness I felt was deep enough to cut, and it had nothing to do with being new in a big city.
“God, Joss. No wonder you never talk about her.” Wes’s words break through my stream of consciousness, and I’m thankful for it. I catch the way his nostrils flare and feel his grip on my hand tighten—he looks about ready to burst with anger on my behalf while he tries to process. He’s almost vibrating with it, and if this whole situation weren’t so fucked up, I’d probably laugh at the irony.
This man, who I’ve known for just three months, is reacting the way I thought my mom would when I told her I was nearly assaulted by her boyfriend. I give his hand a little squeeze, running my thumb back and forth, silently thanking him for being the man he is. He looks on the verge of losing it, and this isn’t even the end of the story. I hope he can hear it without breaking anything.
“Yeah, well, it gets better.” I try to infuse my tone with as much nonchalance as possible, taking the power away from the events I’m about to relive, but I know it’ll be a feeble attempt. There’s no disguising the pain of what broke us for good.
“I told her to leave me alone. She went back to him and begged him to take her back—because of course she did.” My head shakes as I say the words—they still seem unbelievable even to me. “I took over my phone bill and the insurance, cutting myself off from their finances and influence entirely. I thought that would be enough. They were together for a while, but I knew they’d broken up when she called me a few years later and told me she’d moved again but that this time, she’d found the one . Again.” I scoff, and it comes out maniacal. “She claimed she was so happy. He was so wonderful. Blah blah blah.”
I should have known better. I should have never taken that call. I should’ve changed my number when she didn’t believe me and took the word of a predator over her own daughter. There were so many things I should have done, but thinking about them isn’t going to change anything.
“She sounded genuinely happy, and we slowly started reconnecting. Emailing, calling, just checking in. She seemed different, better. She was happy for me that I had a job I enjoyed and that I was finding success for myself. She asked if she and her new boyfriend could come visit me in Sydney. At that point, it’d been several years since I last saw her. She said she missed me, that she really wanted me to meet him because she thought they might get married, and she wanted me to be there when they did.”
I can still remember that whole conversation like it was yesterday. The little girl inside me was desperate for us to be okay, for her to want to have a relationship with me. I close my eyes and can hear all her words in my head. When I open them again, Wes is watching me intently, still holding my hand. My rock in this storm.
He’s closer now too. Sitting in the middle of the couch, one leg bent in and the other hanging off the side, my feet just against his shin. He’s got one arm propped on the back of the couch, holding my hand, and the other looks ready to grab on to me at any moment.
“I said yes.” My words come out hollow, sad. “I wanted to reconcile. I hoped it would fill the void my dad left, that she left. They came and stayed with me for a couple days. I was living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment at the time. There was barely enough room for us all to be there, but they brought an air mattress, and for the first two days, it was nice. Almost normal. They took me out to dinners, we walked around the city, and we even splurged to walk overtop the Harbour Bridge together. I introduced them to Jaz and we drank too much coffee at Harbour Grounds. I was just so happy to feel like I had family again. I let my guard down.”
God, I can’t even look at him now. The fingers of my free hand pull at the hem of the hoodie until I’m afraid I’ll shred it if I don’t stop. I swallow the lump in my throat, wanting this to be over, for it all to be out there.
“It was a Wednesday. I’ll never forget. I had to get up early for a trip in the morning, and my mom and Bill—” I break off. I haven’t uttered his name in seven years. “They weren’t moving very fast that morning. I was going to be late, so I kissed my mom goodbye and told them to lock the door on their way out. I was gone for three days, and when I got back, anything that was easy to move, easy to sell, everything of value that I owned was gone. My laptop, gone. The few pieces of jewelry I had, gone. I didn’t have a lot, but they took anything they could fit in their car.”
I feel the first tear slip down my cheek, and Wes’s thumb brushes it away. The second follows a few seconds later, and then it’s all over. Fuck.
“God, this is so embarrassing.” I close my eyes, wiping at my face and looking up to the ceiling. I still carry so much shame and anger over what happened because it was my fault. I should have never trusted her.
“Joss?” My name is a gentle question. He waits for me to look at him, and when I do, there’s no pity, even the burning rage has dissipated. Instead, all I see is sadness—because he cares. “That was not your fault, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, but I chose to trust her, to trust him. I allowed them into my house and I left them alone there. I should have known better.”
“But Joss, you were young. You were, what, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You’re supposed to be able to trust your own mother. This is not on you—this is on them.”
My shoulders shake with the sob I can’t contain. Aside from the few times I’ve allowed myself to cry with Wes, I hadn’t cried a single time since that day. Not once since I walked into my ransacked fourth-floor apartment in Marrickville and realized what she’d done. I locked my emotions up tight. I thickened my skin. I never opened myself up to be hurt by someone again. It’s why I react instinctively now with anger over sadness. Anger feels empowering, controlled. Sadness, tears… Those emotions feel weak and unrestrained.
His words wash over me again and again. I’ve told myself those things so many times, and Jaz has insisted them even more. She’s the only other person who knows my past because she was there to pick up the pieces. Yet hearing it from Wes is different. The words sink below that thick skin and begin to take root.
I take a steadying breath, needing to finish this story so we can move on. “After I got home and realized what happened, I changed my number. I even moved in with Jaz for a while until I could find a new place. I couldn’t stay there any longer. It had been so utterly violated by them that it made my skin crawl. I cut all ties with her and haven’t heard anything from her in seven years. Until today.”
I’m about to lose it and start crying again. My lip quivers and my vision blurs with unshed tears. Then Wes’s strong arms engulf me, and I sag against him in relief and exhaustion while he holds me tight.
I want so badly to stay here in this moment with him, to never let go, to forget the rest of the world, my mom, all of it. But I have bigger problems, and I need Wes to help me figure them out. I push away from him and reach for my phone. I’ve felt it buzzing in my pocket for the last hour. I can only assume what the messages will say.
I unlock the screen and there they are.
Unknown Number
Joss, I know we left on bad terms last time, but please let me explain.
I need to talk to you, we need to make this right.
Please, Joss. This is important. I’m your mother, you can’t just ignore me.
We will be there Saturday morning. I promise it won’t be like last time.
I love you.
I want to scream and throw my phone across the room, but what would that solve? I hand it to Wes. His eyes widen as they slide down, and I swear his whole body tenses when he reaches the end. The anger and sadness mixed in his expression make my heart ache.
“You’re not letting her come here, right?”
“I don’t want to. I haven’t responded, obviously, but it sounds like she’s coming whether I want her to or not.” I shrug, feeling almost resigned to that reality.
“But she doesn’t know where you live. You’ve moved.”
“She also shouldn’t have my number,” I say, feeling so frustrated with this invasion of my privacy. “I honestly wouldn’t put it past her to know my address.”
“Who’s coming with her? Is it this Bill guy? They should be in jail, Joss. They robbed you.” He’s indignant, tossing the phone on the table like it’s burned him. It feels good to have someone in my corner.
“I have no idea, Wes. I know exactly as much as you do based on those texts. What do I do?” I need him to tell me what I’m supposed to do here. How am I supposed to deal with this? His grip on my hand grounds me while he takes a steadying breath of his own.
“You should ignore her. She can’t get in the building. We tell Frank to keep an eye out for them, and to refuse them entry if they come here. We can still go on our trip; we won’t even be here for her to bother you. ”
Shit, the trip.
“Wes. I don’t know if ignoring her is the best idea. I don’t know why she’s decided now is the time to reconnect, but I’m sure she’ll just keep trying. Maybe if I see her, just this once, I can finally leave it in the past.”
God, that sounds terrifying. Is that really what I want? If you’d asked me yesterday, I would have said hell no. But today, in light of finally sharing this burden with someone, I think it actually might be.
I can tell by the pinch of his lips and the furrow in his brow that he hates that idea. I use my thumb to press into the lines between his brows again, smoothing the skin.
“If you keep making that face, it’s going to get stuck like that.”
My lips lift and I’m met by a warm smile in return. His fingers tighten around mine and he brings them to his mouth. It’s the smallest touch, just the lightest kiss against my thumb, but I feel it everywhere.
“I don’t like the idea of her being anywhere near you, especially not knowing who she’s bringing with her. Tell me I can be with you when you see her, please?” The way he says please melts my heart.
I lean forward, pressing my face into his chest, and force down the ever-present feelings for this man. It’s going to tear me apart when he leaves.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I breathe into his chest before turning my head and resting it there, listening to his beating heart. “Thank you.”
His shoulders relax in relief and he pulls me just a little bit closer .
“Wes, what do I say to her? I can’t have her just showing up here. We need to set something up away from my apartment—there’s no way she can stay here. I’ll struggle to stand my ground… You don’t know her. She won’t take no for an answer.”
“Then you tell her your boyfriend says no.”
I pull back so fast that I crick my neck.
“My… boyfriend?” No way did I hear him right.
“Your boyfriend. You tell them that I live here with you, that I’m your boyfriend, and that I’m not comfortable with it. You blame it on me, and then they can’t force the issue.”
Ah, so this is a show for my mom, got it. My stomach sinks a little, but I push that thought aside. This could work.
“You’d be my fake boyfriend? While they’re here?”
I watch him intently, hoping I can pick up on more of what he’s thinking, but his face is calm, almost unreadable except for the fire in his eyes. It’s hard to tell if it’s directed toward me or if it’s because he’s fired up over the situation.
“Yes.” He’s so resolute and sure of himself. God, I wish I had half as much confidence.
“Okay. But how would this work exactly? I’ve never had a fake boyfriend before.”
“And you’ll be my first fake girlfriend, so I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.”
The way my heart soars when he says girlfriend is stupid and irritating.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You know why.” He fingers a tendril of my hair and slides it behind my ear, giving me goose bumps down my neck. His fingertips trail my jaw to my chin. Holding me there, forcing me to look at him. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was about to kiss me. “I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of you, Joss. You mean too much to me. You’ve become my closest friend. I need to know you’re okay.”
That instantly cools the heat that was pooling in my body at his touch. Friend. Right, of course. He isn’t interested in a real relationship with me, and I’m not interested in being with someone who can’t offer me the stability that I need.
I pull back, needing space, needing to breathe. I stand up, grabbing our glasses that are now very much empty, and head for the kitchen.
Breathe, Joss .
“Hey. You okay?” I hear the concern in his voice, but I can’t look at him.
“Yeah, today’s just been a lot. I’m getting tired and should go to bed. We can figure out a plan in the morning, yeah?”
I glance over and see him eyeing me. Can he feel me pulling back, just as he’s pressing forward?
“Yeah. You sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay awhile?” The sad puppy-dog eyes he’s sporting almost break me, but him staying won’t help anything. I’ll only be digging myself deeper into this hole of feelings that I’m quickly falling into.
“Nah, I’m alright. Just need sleep. Coffee and pastries in the morning?”
Instead of dawn patrol the morning after I get home from a trip, this has become our tradition, so that I can sleep in and decompress.
He nods and closes the distance between us, picking me up in a bone-crushing hug. I melt into it, enjoying the way he’s so comfortable holding me, like his arms were made for me.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear. I let his scent wrap around me like a blanket. “For being you and for being here.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Grey.”
I sink further into the embrace and let myself believe him.