Standing up, he walks over to his nightstand and takes out something. Turning around he throws it at me and I catch it withone hand. When I open my fist and look down, there’s a condom in my hand.
“Good luck with your first time.”
I throw the condom in his face and slam the door shut with a thud.
Asshole.
19
HEATH
I closethe door behind me and check time.
It’s past eleven pm.
Did I intentionally come late?Yes.
I wasn’t going to attend a fucking family dinner when we are anything but family. Plus, I knew there’d be less talking and more fighting. I wasn’t in the mood to exchange fucking insults with my parents. Besides, Mom would get emotional and I’m not in the mood for that either.
I walk down the quiet hallway noticing that my parents aren’t lurking in the living room like they usually do nowadays. They wait up for me which is the strangest thing ever. Seriously, why do they sacrifice their sleep for me? Also, why the fuck now? They didn’t care before when they were living their perfect, happy lives in Canada, pretending they didn’t have two children living alone in a small town like they’re orphans.
As I think more, those thoughts turn my mood bitter.
I decide to turn back around and spend the night somewhere else, when I hear quiet whisperings coming out of the kitchen.
Curiosity piques my interest, and I make my way towards it.
“You barely ate dinner, Mia Cara. You should eat something,” Dad says.
“I’m not feeling hungry.”
“Then why are you making blueberry muffins?”
“Maybe Heath likes them. You do.”
He sighs. “I only like them becauseyoumake them.”
“You are always so sweet. I’m glad I married you.”
“Me too. I love you with all my heart.”
A second later their kissing noises filter out of the room and I close my eyes and wince.
My parents are nauseatingly in love with each other.
Love.
The word makes my heart race.
I quickly push it back, refusing to think about it.
“Heath isn’t home yet. I’m going to head out to find him,” Dad says, his tone laced with worry that he rarely shows when it comes to me. “He better not be in any trouble. One record was enough to give me a fucking heart attack.”
“He’ll be fine,” Mom assures him.
“He better be. I don’t want to lose him.”
A knot ties my stomach in a vice grip.
