All I can seem to do is nod my head at her. I know she’s my mother, and I should treat her like it. But it’s very weird, seeing your mom come home, knowing she was in a man’s bed. In a childish way, I thought she wouldn’t get in another relationship again after my dad. The thought that she might be seeing someone has my blood boiling.
I mean, who would want their parent replacing their dead parent? I know I don’t like the sound of that.
“I was at the bank late tonight,” she rambles, but I cut her off.
“I’m not a child. Be straight with me because I know you weren’t at the bank.”
She sighs. Pulling out a wooden kitchen chair, she plops down onto it. “I met someone.”
My heart splits in two. I knew it. Feeling confused and overwhelmed at the idea of Mom seeing someone, I jump and sit on the countertop behind me.
“One day, he came into the bank and wanted to make a new account with us. He’d just moved into town with his son. He’s actually your age. For a month, he would come and visit me. Sometimes, he would bring me flowers and chocolates. He won my heart immediately with his charm. We’ve gone on a couple of lunch dates. And last night, he asked me to be his girlfriend.” She pauses and casts me a nervous glance. “And I said yes.”
Hurt bubbles inside of me. Why didn’t she talk to me about this? Keeping secrets is never a good thing. I would have been more open and happier for her. But knowing she kept this secret from me for weeks hurts. It hurts that she didn’t trust me, that she knew I wasn’t ready, and I’m not. I’m not ready to see my mom in love with another man.
Her heart should belong to my dad, not a man who buys her chocolates and flowers.
It shouldn’t be this way.
She leans forward in her seat and pats my knee. “Trinity, honey, say something.”
“I just wish you had been honest with me.” I have to stop my voice from cracking. “It’s hard enough, finding out that you’re moving on, but you keeping it a secret from your only daughter? Not cool, Mom. I guess I’m happy for you, but this is too much for me right now, Mom.” I shake my head.
Jumping down from the counter, I stride out of the kitchen, needing space from my mother once again.
I want her to be happy; I do. But this hurts so fucking much. I hate the thought of my family changing. Dad died four years ago. Even with all the time that has passed, it feels raw. The gash is still open, wounded deeply, gushing out one of the main things I need to survive. Blood.
There’s so much going on in my life. I didn’t expect to add a new stepfather to the list.
I hate secrets; they destroy people.
I stop at the doorway and spin around on my heels. My temperature rises as I glance at her. She’s always been hard on me about boys. Whenever I used to go out and come back home with one wrinkle in my shirt, she would scold me. Yell at me until I felt like being buried alive. Now, here she is, looking like she didn’t sleep a wink last night. It pisses me off that she didn’t think of fixing herself before coming home to her grieving daughter.
“And you know what?” Dark humor is thick in my tone. “I don’t appreciate you coming home, looking like that. Maybe have a little respect. I’d rather not know my mom was up all night while I didn’t sleep a wink, worried sick about you! I would never come home, looking like that. You know why?”
She meets my eyes.
“Because I have respect for you. You’ve just shown me you have no respect for me. That kills.” My throat closes up, making me hold back a sob that threatens to break loose.
What hurts more is that she didn’t even realize I was gone. No calls or texts. Nothing. I could disappear, and it seems no one would notice. I storm out of the kitchen. Simba loyally follows me with his tail wagging back and forth. He can sense tension in the air because as he passes Mom, he growls at her.
Good boy.
I look over my shoulder as I walk up the staircase and see her hunched over with her head in her hands. The most heartless thing that I could feel is nothing.
I feelnothing.
* * *
I wore black leggings and Leonidas’s hoodie to work. I’ve been here for two hours. Linda, my boss, showed me around the store. She taught me the computer system, the phone, how to stock the shelves, and she even gave me a key. I’m surprised at how quickly I picked it all up. I could see the impressed look on her face. She even cracked a smile or two. I know by the end of this month, I’ll have a special spot in her heart.
After all, I’m the only employee she has. I’m going to save her so much time.
I hum as I push the cart full of books down the romance aisle. Linda left ten minutes ago for her lunch break. I love the freedom I feel here. I place the crisp, new book on the empty shelf with a small smile on my face. There’s nothing better than the smell of a new book.
As I position another book on the shelf in front of me, the door chime rings, indicating my first customer. My stomach turns anxiously as I walk toward the front of the store.
Please don’t mess up. Please don’t mess up.
