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Charade
  • Текст добавлен: 28 сентября 2016, 22:39

Текст книги "Charade"


Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn



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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

~CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO~

Cheyenne

              Colt’s mom’s been asleep for three hours. He hasn’t spoken a word the whole time. I’m sitting in a chair beside him. He’s holding her hand, his head in his arms that are resting on her bed. Sometimes I touch him. I want him to know I’m here. I’ll always be here. I alternate between rubbing his back and touching his leg and pulling back to give him space. Still I don’t leave the chair. As long as he’s by her side I’ll be by his.

              Longer even.

              My heart aches for him—breaks for him and for her. For everyone because this world will be a little more lonely without her in it.

              I’ve only known her a short amount of time and I know that.

              His stomach growl, but don’t ask if he wants food. I know he’ll say no.

              I look at Colt. Look at Bev and flash to Mom telling me goodbye. Flash to what her bones must have looked like in those woods. Alone. I’m glad Bev won’t have to go alone like that.

              Glad Colt and I won’t be left by ourselves either.

              He sits up enough to rub a hand through his hair. It’s as messy as I’ve ever seen it. His leg bounces up and down. But he hasn’t shed a tear.

              For the first time, he turns and looks at me. The pain in his eyes rips through my chest and makes tears spring to my eyes. I’m not as strong as he is.

              “Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Not yet. You didn’t cry for yourself for so long. If you do it now, make it for her, not me.”

              I nod. He leans away from the bed enough to run a hand down the side of my face. To push my hair behind my ear.

              The smile he gives me is worse than weeping. It’s broken. Pained.

              And just that quickly his hand is gone and his head is turned and he’s leaning on the bed again. Holding her hand and watching her breathe. The breaths that I begin to count the second between.

              Maggie’s in and out. The hospice nurse too. Colt doesn’t talk to them. They speak to me, but mostly I think they want to leave us alone with her while we wait for her to go.


~CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE~

Colt

              Mom’s eyes flutter open for the first time in hours. Five to be exact. They dart around the room, fear peering out of them.

              “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you need the nurse?”

              “I’m late for work!” she says and tries to get up.

              Work? She hasn’t worked in a year. “Mom…you don’t work. You’re…” I can’t manage to say it. “Do you need the nurse?”

              “I don’t want to get fired. I need the money. My son…” She looks scared to death. Pulls her hand away from me.

              My heart is racing. My body numb. Does she not know who I am? “It’s me. I’m your son. You don’t have to work. You just need to rest.”

              “Colton?” her voice cracks, confusion still splintering through.

              “Yeah. Yeah it’s me.” It’s me. I have to tell her who I am. I want to scream. To throw up. To wake up from this shitty ass nightmare and find out everything’s okay.

              “Colton…” she says again, this time with recognition. The nurse comes into the room again, fills a syringe and shoots more pain medicine into her.

              One, two, three.

              Her eyes flutter.

              Four, five, six.

              She’s asleep again.

              I fall into the chair.

              I’ve already lost her.


~CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR~

Cheyenne

              Colt’s said a few words, but nothing major. I’ve held him and given him space. Maggie’s brought food we haven’t touched. The only time we leave is to go to the restroom.

              It’s four hours later when her eyes finally open again. How many hours have we been here? I hold my breath. I think my heart stops too.

              Please let her be okay. Let her know who he is. Let him be able to say goodbye.

“I…wish…you…didn’t…have…to…look…so…sad…” she says, weakly smiling.

              I feel the tension leak out of Colt’s body.

              “Mom. Hey. How do you feel?”

              “Happy to see you,” she replies.

              I know I shouldn’t. That I should be strong, but I can’t fight the tears from falling down my face. Can’t hold them back or reel them in.

              And it’s not all from sadness. I see the way she looks at him and it’s beautiful. She loves him the way a mother should love their child. Thoroughly. Completely. To her, he’s the most important person in the world and I’m so very happy they have that.

              “Always trying to get on my good side,” Colt tries to tease. I love him more for it.

              She reaches for his hand. I didn’t realize they’d let go. He gives it to her and she squeezes.

              “Let me talk to Cheyenne.” Her voice is so soft, I can hardly make out her words. Colt looks like he’s ready to panic. His eyes wide as he looks from her to me.

              “It’s okay,” she says. “It’ll just be a minute.”

              I cry harder. I need to stop, but I can’t make myself do it. I wipe my eyes as Colt stands up. He kisses her cheek. Stands and drops his forehead against mine.

              No words are needed. We just lean into each other. “We’ll be okay,” I whisper.

              He nods.

              “I love you.”

              “You too.” And then he’s gone. I take his chair and have to lean in close so I can hear her.

              “You’re beautiful together.” Her chin trembles, which makes me cry again.

              “I love him. He’s…”

              “Frustrating.”

              I smile. “Yes.”

              “But he’s wonderful too.” Her voice sounds so proud in that moment. You wouldn’t know she was sick. She’s just a mom proud of her son.

              “You guys think you fooled me in the beginning,” she rasps. “You were only fooling yourself.”

              I nod because she’s right. I’m not surprised she knows. I’m honored she sees it’s real now.

              “Take care of him.”

              The words snap me like a twig. “I will.” I can hardly get out between my sobs. I squeeze her hand and rest my cheek on it. “I will, I will, I will.”

              “Take care of you too. And let him. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s good at taking care of people.”

              “He is.” I say this with as much conviction as she spoke with. “He takes good care of me.”

              “You have to be able to take care of yourself too. Both you and Colton. It’s okay to lean, but you both need to know how strong you are too.”

              “I—”

              “Your mom loved you,” Bev cuts me off. I gasp. My tears are running down onto her hand and I feel guilty, but can’t make them stop.

              “She loved you. It would be impossible not to. She might not always have known how to show it. She might not have always done the right thing, but she loved you. She loved you,” she says again.

              “Thank you.” I say it over and over. Until my throat is raw. Until she knows how much those words mean to me because somehow they have to be real if she says it.

              “He loves you,” she adds. “And I love you. You’re everything I could have hoped for, for him.”

              I can’t stop myself. I stand up and lean down to rest my head on her chest. The tears don’t stop. She shushes me. Runs a hand through my hair. It’s the same thing Colt does and I wonder how many bruised knees and bad days she soothed for him this way.

              Finally, when the tears are gone, I sit up. “Thank you. I love you too.”

              A quick nod is my reply. “I need Colton.” Her voice is laced with pain. Broken and bleeding with it. “I need my boy.”


~CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE~

Colt

              My feet are weighed down, but I somehow manage to make them move. Chey’s in the hallway as I close Mom’s bedroom door.

              I don’t know if it’s okay or if it’s right or if it makes me the weakest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, but I crawl into bed with her, hoping and praying I don’t hurt her. All I know is I need her.

              I wrap my arm around her. Curl up on my side. I feel small…like a kid. How I used to get into bed with her when I’d have a nightmare or the neighbors would scream so loud they scared me.

              “My sweet, sweet, boy,” She says. I don’t know how she managed to make her voice sound clear, stronger. Probably for me. Because she knows I need it.

              “Live your life,” she finally says. I have to look up to see her because I don’t know what she means.

              She sighs. Bites her chapped lip. “You can do anything you want, Colton. That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to know. You’re better than me. Better than your father. You can have anything. Be anything. Do anything…but live your life. If you decide college isn’t what you want, don’t do it because of me. I want you to find whatever you can that makes you happy and you hold it. You grab onto it with all your might. If I ever pushed you into anything it’s because I wanted you to know you’re better than selling drugs, going to jail. Nickle and diming it like I’ve had to do.”

              Selling drugs. Going to jail.

              Does that sound familiar? The things I hated my father for.

              Her eyes hold mine intensely. “Just be good…be happy. That’s all I want for you. And for you to know how one-of-a-kind you are. You are strong, loyal, caring. You make that girl out there smile like she has the world in the palm of her hand.” She pauses, breathing hard from the effort of so much talking. Then she whispers, “You gave me the world.”

              I’m begging myself to say something, but I can’t find the words. They’re locked inside me. Each time they try and slip through, a door closes on them, blocking them out.

              “You gave me the world,” she says again. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever done that means something.”

              “You made me who I am,” is what I manage to say. I hope it’s enough. Hope it’s right. When I look at her, her face is wet. Tears giving moisture to her lips that are turned up in a smile.

***

              Hours go by. I don’t even know how the hell many. They pass as she sleeps and breathes those raspy breaths. She hasn’t woken up again for so long. It’s the middle of the night now. All I have to do is look at the clock, but I don’t have the energy.

              Cheyenne’s standing by the window, looking out at the darkness. There’s only a small light next to mom’s bed that’s on. A streetlight outside shines against my dancer.

              Looking at her, I suddenly need her. To feel her and talk to her. She jumps when the chair squeaks as I stand. Without a word I walk over to her and pull her into my arms. Bury my face in her neck as she clutches at my back.

              And somehow…I feel better. Still broken and lost and angry, but not so alone too.

              I step forward and Cheyenne backward. She leans against the wall and just lets me hold her. Holds me. “I’m losing her,” pushes past my lips, into her neck. “I’m fucking losing her. I don’t want to lose anyone else I love. I don’t want to lose you.” I don’t know where the words are suddenly coming from, but I can’t make them stop. Can’t reel them in. “I’m a prick half the time, but you make me better. You make me happy. I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

              “I love you too. I’m not going anywhere. We make each other better.”

              I pull away from her. Put my hands on her hips. Dig my nails in because I need to hold her as tight as I can. And then lean forward and kiss her. It’s slow and healing. She moans and I swallow it down. Taste every part of her mouth. Give her mine. Push against her. Pull her to me.

              “I want to be someone,” I say when I pull away. “I don’t know who. I just know I don’t want to be the guy who sells weed. The one who busts his phone against a tree when he realizes he fell for a girl. Who goes to jail and takes it out on her because she’s there for his mom when he wasn’t.”

              “You are more than that,” she tells me.

              “I don’t know if I am, but I want to be.”

              “My mom loved me,” Cheyenne says, shocking me. “I don’t know if she meant to leave me, but she loved me. And I’m not perfect. I don’t want to be. I have panic attacks I don’t deal with, but I need to. I will.”

              I kiss her again because she’s so fucking strong. In this moment, in the half-dark room while my mom sleeps on the bed next to us, we make our vows to each other. To stop pretending. To grow up. To do what the hell we need to do to not be the people who had to play a fucked up game of charades to fall in love.

We’re both quiet. Mom’s breathing is the only sound in the room. We lean against the wall, holding each other.

              “I couldn’t do this without you, Tiny Dancer.”

              “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

              I take a couple deep breaths before saying, “I don’t want to tell her goodbye.” But I have to. I know it. Know she’s probably waiting for it.

              “I know. I’m sorry.”

              I kiss her again. “I know.”

***

              Daylight has come and passed again. It’s the next night. Mom hasn’t woken up anymore. Maggie and the hospice nurse come in and out. Give medicine. Sad smiles. Her hand doesn’t hold mine anymore, but I try to hold on tight enough for both of us.

              I know what I need to do. Every time I open my mouth it won’t come out. So I sit here. Watching her die. Watching her suffer. Waiting.

              Mom doesn’t make any sounds beside the breaths that sound almost painful.

              Fucking do it.

              I look over at Cheyenne and she’s watching me. I try to tell her with my eyes. Let her know that I’m letting her go. She gives me a small nod.

              I’m scared to fucking death to do this, but proud too. Proud because I’m setting her free. Letting her be in the sunshine.

              I lean forward, my mouth next to her ear. My words are soft, only for her and me.

              “I lied to you last time you asked, but I want you to know, I’m happy. You never pushed me unless I needed to be pushed. You gave me everything and I swear to God, I’ll make you proud of me. For you…and for me too. I love you…” My voice breaks. The words unlock the damn that held my tears back and I finally cry. Cry for her. For me. For the whole fucking world who is losing her. “I’m happy. I’ll be okay. I’ll live for me, but for you too. You don’t have to worry about me. You can go… I have Cheyenne and I fucking love her. Christ. I shouldn’t be cursing right now, but I love her. I do. We’ll be okay.”

              I swear her hand tightens on mine. Nothing else moves. Her breathing doesn’t change, but I know she hears me. I know she’s proud of me. I’m proud of me.

              “I love you. I’m okay,” I say again.

              I lace my fingers with hers and sit on the edge of the bed. I look at Chey and she comes over. She sits behind me, one hand on me and one on Mom.

              And we wait.

              Seconds.

              Minutes.

              Half an hour.

              Her breathing slows. Softens.

              “I’m okay,” I say again. Pick up her wrist. Kiss my name there.

              One more breath.

              I wait.

              And wait.

              She doesn’t breathe again.

              She’s gone.


~CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX~

Cheyenne

              Colt’s silent as the hospice nurse makes a phone call. He’s quiet as Maggie cries. I’m scared to death he’s going to pull away. That he’s going to run. Then I feel like a jerk for even thinking about that. Bev is gone. His mom just died. He just let her go.

              “I need to get out of here,” he finally says. We leave the apartment and climb into the car. “Can you call Adrian?” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, so he doesn’t see my nod.

I pick up my cell, call him. “Can you make sure the house is empty?” I ask. I can understand why Colt would want to make sure no one’s there when we get home.

              “Already done,” Adrian replies.

              I don’t know how he knew, but it doesn’t matter. “Thanks. We appreciate it.”

              “Take care of my boy,” I hear him inhale, shake my head, knowing he’s probably sucking weed into his lungs right now.

              “I will.” I try to put the phone in the cup holder, but it falls between the seats and to the floor. I leave it. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing does except for Colt.

              His hand is on my leg the whole way home. I wonder if he needs that connection as much as I do? To know that even though it hurts, there’s still someone by my side. And it has to be even worse for him.

              As promised, the house looks empty when we get home. Dark. The porch light isn’t even on.

              Colt lets go of my leg and gets out of the car, but doesn’t move. I wish I knew what to do for him. A way to lessen the pain.

              Getting out, I walk to the other side of the car.

              “I can’t believe she’s fucking gone.” He leans me against my car like he did the wall earlier and holds me.

              His grip eases me. How easy would it be for him to run right now? I did when I found out about my mom and our situation was completely different. But he’s here. With me. Leaning on me and holding me.

              “I love you,” I tell him.

              “I—”

              “—Isn’t that fucking sweet?” A male voice comes from behind us. Colt instantly tenses.

              “She’s got him whipped. At least you were smart enough to keep someone fun on the side, G.”

              Colt whips around. I feel the anger rolling off of him.

              Gregory and three of his friends stand behind us. I smell beer. One of them has a bottle in his hand that he drinks from.

              I try to wrap my arms around Colt from behind. We don’t need this right now. “Let’s just go.”

He shakes me off.

              “Going to listen to your girl? Don’t have a big mouth like you did the other day?” This from Gregory.

              “Please fucking hit me, Pretty Boy. I’m begging you. I won’t even fight back at first,” Colt steps forward. Again I grab his arm and he pulls away.

              “Don’t do this.” I know this isn’t even fully about Gregory. He wants to hurt because of his mom. He wants to hurt someone else because of her. I look at Gregory and shout, “You have the worst timing ever. Leave him alone.”

              “Get in the car, Tiny Dancer.” Another step, but I’m right behind him.

              “What are you guys even doing here?” I stand next to Colt who again tries to push me behind him.

              “He’s always showing up where we party. Getting in our business so we thought it was time we returned the favor.” My stomach rolls at the sound of Gregory’s voice. I can’t even believe this is him. Was he always like this? Something college has done to him?

              “Are we just gonna sit around and talk or did you guys come here for a reason?” Colt’s voice is tight as he eggs them on. A few steps and he’s right in front of Gregory, almost nose to nose with him. “You wanted to teach me a lesson, Pretty Boy? Do it.” And then he pushes Gregory.

              Gregory stumbles backward.

              “What the fuck. Kick his ass, G!” One of his friends yells.

              “Don’t let that pussy get the best of you again!” Another says.

              It all happens so fast from there. Colt pushes me back as Gregory charges, hitting Colt across the middle. They both stumble. Fall backward. I watch him fall in slow motion…down…down. His head cracks loudly on the curb, Gregory on top of him. I scream, but it’s like my body’s gone into some sort of shock from disbelief. This cannot be happening.

              Colt doesn’t move.

              “Holy shit!” Gregory scrambles off him. Everything seems normal. Colt looks normal, but it’s obvious he’s not. Gregory sees it too. “It was an accident. I didn’t fucking mean it!” He’s pacing.

Hot tears run down my face. There isn’t blood. Why isn’t there blood? I’m not sure if that’s good or not. My throat hurts, it’s raw as I scream and scream. I shove Gregory aside, drop and crawl to Colt. I touch his chest. Stomach. Want to pull his head to my lap, but don’t think I should.

              My tears hit him, puddling on his shirt. “Get help! Call someone!” I cry. Why isn’t he moving? Please let him move.

              “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” yells one of them.

              Tires squeal at the same time feet hit the ground running.

              Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die. Over and over and over the words flow through my head.

              I scream, lean over and hold him. “Colt. I’m here. I’m going to get some help.” Then I’m fighting when someone tries to pull me away from him.

              “Cheyenne!” It’s Adrian. “We need to get him to a fucking hospital.”

              Adrian’s voice snaps me out of it. I jerk away as he lifts Colt up. His head flops to the side. “My phone. It’s in my car.”

              “Fuck it. We’re driving him there.”

              I run to Adrian’s car. I don’t know how I’m even going right now, but I know I have to. Have to do it for Colt.

              I rip the door open.

              “Get in,” Adrian says. He’s already laying Colt in the backseat as I try and scoot over. His head is in my lap. It doesn’t feel like there’s a big injury. I’m not sure if that matters. I keep feeling his pulse, checking his breathing.

              It feels like an eternity and at the same time, only a few seconds when we get to the hospital. I hardly remember the ride. I just hold Colt the way he held me in the car not too long ago. Tell him he’ll be okay. That I love him. Should we have moved him? What if we hurt him by moving him? Too many thoughts are slamming into me.

              Adrian’s out of the car and pulling Colt into his arms. We rush through the EMT entrance.

              “What are you—room three,” a nurse yells when she sees Colt in Adrian’s arms.

              I struggle to see through the tears blurring my vision. One of the doctors grabs Colt. They’re laying him on the bed. Two more nurses and a doctor rush in. My heart hurts. I gasp, trying to breathe.

              “Please help him.” I try to get into the room.

              “What happened?” someone asks.

              “He was pushed and hit his head on the curb.”

              One of them curses. “You’re going to have to get out of here.”

              Fear spikes inside me. “No! I’m not leaving him.” He wouldn’t leave me. I know he wouldn’t.

              “If you want to help him get out of here. Give them some information and give us space.” They rip the curtain closed.

              Adrian catches me as I fall. “They’re going to fix him. Let them do their job.”

              “He just lost his mom,” I sob. Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. “I don’t want to leave him.”

              “You’re not,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re making it so they can take care of him. He knows you wouldn’t leave him.”

              My eyes find Adrian. His are bloodshot and I wonder if it’s from crying or being high. Whatever the reason, he’s somehow calming. And he cares about Colt. He’s a good friend.

              “Excuse me, miss? We need to get some information from you,” a dark-haired nurse asks.

              I nod. After glancing once more at the closed curtain of Colt’s room I follow her. Adrian stays with me the whole time—helping with some of the information on Colt. I don’t even know his birthday. How can I not know his birthday?

              I tell them what happened. They call the cops, promising to let me know the second they know anything about him.

              My legs are shaking so bad it’s hard to walk, but I can’t make myself sit down either. Adrian watches me the whole time, but doesn’t speak. He’s always so laid back, but right now, he’s uptight. Tense. He looks as panicky as I feel.

              The cops come and we still don’t know anything about Colt. I tell them what happened. They want to know who pushed who first. I don’t want to tell them since it was Colt. It was all a screwed-up accident.

              I give them Gregory’s full name. I don’t know anyone else’s.

              “Her ex-boyfriend is an asshole. He’s a spoiled, rich kid who doesn’t like to lose and he lost.” Adrian storms out of the room. Guilt knocks the air out of me. Choking me. This is all because of me. Because of the stupid game I made him play.

              I finish giving them information and give them my phone number. I’m walking away as I say the last numbers. I wring my hands together as I approach the desk. “I need to check on Colton.” I’m almost scared to ask, but I need to know. He has to be okay. Has to.

              “Is there any family?” the desk clerk asks. Me, I think. I’m family.

“They were asking about parents.”

              “His mo—” Oh God. How could I have almost forgotten that quickly? Bev is dead. She only died hours ago. I shake my head. “No. His mom just passed away.”

              She sighs, but I can tell it’s because she feels bad.

              “Please.” I hate begging. Hate it. I’ll do anything in this moment. Weakness or strength doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Colt.

              Adrian appears out of nowhere, stepping up beside me. I feel like we’re a team. The both of us loving the guy in the emergency room. It’s crazy because I don’t know him well. He’s there a lot, smokes a lot of pot. I never would have thought he’d be the kind of guy I’d be friends with, but then I never thought I’d fall in love with Colt either. The both of them are better than Gregory and his friends would ever be.

              “Tell us,” Adrian says, his voice pained.

              She sighs again. “Since you’re the one who brought him in, I guess it’s okay. Let me get the nurse.”

              She slips through the door. Again I pace. I’ve cried so many tears my face is finally dry, but it doesn’t change how I feel in the inside. I’m breaking apart in there.

              The sliding door opens and it’s the doctor who comes out. Adrian slips an arm around me, to steady himself or me, I don’t know.

              “You’re his…”

              “Fiancé,” I lie.

              She’s a female doctor, with short blond hair.              “We ran some scans and there’s slight swelling on his brain, and a bleed. It’s where the blood is trapped with nowhere to go. When the surgery is done, he’ll go into the ICU. We’ll give him a couple days, run some more tests in the meantime. We won’t know much until then.”

              I almost fall, but Adrian holds me up.

“He only hit his head!” Which sounds ridiculous, but people fall and hit their head all the time. One minute he was standing there and that quickly, over a stupid fight that has to do with me, he’s having surgery and going to the ICU.

              “Our heads are very fragile. Sometimes that’s all it takes. The truth is, he can wake up and be fine. Have no side effects. You never know with the brain, but…”

              He also might not. Or have brain damage. I’m sure there are more possibilities than I know about. I don’t want to hear them. “Can…can I stay with him?”

              She nods. “When he’s settled in his room. No more than two visitors in the ICU rooms though.”

              I nod and she goes back into the ER.

              “Can I use your phone?” I ask Adrian. He nods. “I don’t know Maggie’s number. We should call her.”

              I have no idea how I sound so steady right now. I feel like I’m falling apart.

“Keep my phone. I’ll go tell her. Give me the keys to your car too and I’ll grab yours.”

              I give him the keys and Adrian doesn’t wait for me to say thank you. He leaves.

              My fingers move quickly on the screen. It’s late, but Aunt Lily picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

              “Lily. It’s Chey. Please come. Colt’s hurt. I need you.”

***

              I sit at Colt’s bed, holding his hand in the same way he held his mom’s. It’s not right. Not fair, but I’m learning—or maybe I’ve always known, that life never really is.

              Adrian’s in the waiting room. He went out so Lily could sit with me. There is a tube in Colt’s throat, helping him breathe. There’s so many buttons, machines, beeping. Each time an alarm goes off I jump. We don’t know when or if he’ll wake up.

              I can’t keep my eyes off him. His hair, his mouth. I want to touch his cheek. Kiss him. Hold him. How can we be here? After Bev we shouldn’t be sitting here wondering if Colt will be okay.

              I glance back at Lily. She gives me a sad smile, stands up and walks over behind me. Her hands rest on my shoulders and I’m so thankful she’s here. I haven’t been fair to her. Maybe ever. I never let myself really get close to her after Mom left. Haven’t talked to her much since we found out Mom died, but she’s here. Here by my side. By Colt’s, regardless of how I never really let her in.

              I want to deserve her.

              “I have nightmares,” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. Lily gives a small gasp behind me, but waits for me to continue. As soon as the words are out I’m glad I’m finally sharing them with her.

              “After mom…I’ve started having nightmares. Really only when I sleep alone. Colt helps. Maybe just to know someone’s there. I used to have them right after Mom left…died? I don’t even know the right word to use. But then. I had them then too.” It’s a huge weight off my chest. Like I’m bridging the gap between us I always fought to keep there.

              “Oh, sweetheart. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

              I shrug. “Because I was afraid. I didn’t want to be weak. Didn’t want to have to depend on anyone. I was scared to count on you because I thought you would leave like she did. Because it had to be me, right? There was no other reason a mom would leave her daughter.”


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