"Paul Francis O'Connor..." Her voice is ice cold behind me. "What thehellis that?"
"I..." I brace myself and turn slowly to face my mother.
Her voice is cold, but her green eyes are burning into me right now.
"You better answer me. Right now."
I swallow hard, sliding my phone back into my pocket. I can barely whisper the name, shame tightening around my throatlike a noose.
"Elise."
Her eyes narrow, "Andwhois Elise?"
"My coworker."
"Oh. Yourcoworker," she repeats, like the word itself has a bad taste. "Seems a bitmorethan that, Paul. Seems like you two are quitefriendly."
"It's... it's not..."
"Paul...pleasetell me you didn't," her voice cracks.
I don’t answer her, just continue staring, silently pleading with her to understand.
Her face collapses in misery.
"Ma, I..."
I trail off when I don't even know what I'm trying to say.
The truth wedges itself in my throat and refuses to come out. I've already devastated one woman I love today, I can't find it in me to do it again.
"Oh my God. You cheated on Sophie," she whispers. Her eyes close, her hand goes to her chest like she's trying to hold herself together. "You cheated on Sophie. OnourSophie.Yourfiancée!"
"Ex-fiancée," I mutter defensively—like a dumbass—because I'm free-falling and it's the only thing I can grab onto.
It’s the completely wrong answer to my mom, because her eyes snap open and she grabs the nearest object—a dishtowel, thankfully—and hurls it right at me as hard as she can.
It smacks me in the side of the head, and I catch it before it hits the floor. She's already storming over to me, fury radiating off her in waves, and despite her being a whole head shorter than me, I shrink back.
"I have—" she starts, her voice a furious snarl I haven't heard since I crashed her car at seventeen, forgetting that wet roadsmeant slippery. "I haveneverfelt so ashamed of you, Paul Francis. What thehellis the matter with you?!"
"You don't know what it's been like!" I explode, the words tearing their way out of me. I'm at my boiling point, a cornered animal clawing and spitting and trying to fight my way out.
"You don't know what it's been like—watchingher get sick, crying herself to sleep at night, telling me she'sscared. Me just sitting there, holding her like that could fix it. Knowing Ican'tfix it! I can't take the cancer from her, I can't help her, I can't doanything! I—Ipanicked, Ma!"
"You panicked? Youpanicked?" she screams, and I flinch at the pitch of the sound. "Sophie has cancer! She's facingdeathright now, and you panicked byfucking someone else?!"
"Ma, you don't understand, okay? I felt like I couldn't do anything. I felt useless. I couldn't do anything for Sophie besides comfort her—"
"—oh, so you turned toEliseto comfortyou!"
"Yes!I did! And she was there for me!" I roar, slamming both hands down on the counter with a crack. My mom's eyes widen, and I barrel on like a bull, "She listened to me! Sheheardme. When I was drowning, she was the one who heard me. All you, or Dad, or Brian, or Chris ever told me was to'hang in there,'to'be there for Sophie.'That'everything would be okay.'But she'sdying!She could die, and I'm so fucking scared, but I couldn't even tell Sophie that. I didn't want to make her more scared than she already was. You know how she is, she'd worry about me more than herself, and I couldn't make her do that. I was scared to move and scared to not, and I felt like I was drowning, and I just... I needed comfort."
My mom is staring at me just like Sophie did—like I'm a stranger. Like I'm not the boy she gave birth to, not her son of thirty-three years.
It hurts.
The woman who's supposed to love me unconditionally is looking at me with such potent disappointment.
