“I confided in her. She knew how much I loved you and wanted to be with you. I told her about the promises we made to each other. And all the time she kept insisting, ‘See? He forgot about you. Out of sight, out of mind.’ And when I stopped hearing from you, I figured she was right.”
“So you dated.”
“Sure. And that gave my mother hope. They say they support me, but constantly drop not-so-subtle hints that maybe I should try dating women again. Even to this day.”
Not thinking about anything other than seeing Ezra in such pain, I sat next to him and put my hand on his arm. Tears washed his bright eyes an even more brilliant gold, and the confusion in his face brought out a protective instinct in me I hadn’t known existed. He trembled under my touch, and I felt the heat roll off his body.
“Your mother lied to you.”
Perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to say, because he stiffened and jerked his arm away.
“I-I still can’t believe it. I won’t until I talk to her.”
“Are you saying I’m lying?” So much for feeling sorry for the man.
His composure returned, and his lips thinned to a tight white line. “You want me to believeyou’retelling me the truth, someone I haven’t seen or spoken to in over twenty years, and that my mother is lying. I think I’ll reserve judgment until I speak to her, thank you.”
“I know what she said.” Of course it wouldn’t be easy to persuade Ezra, who’d always been very close to his parents, that they’d done something so deceitful.
“And I’m saying you probably misunderstood her. You should’ve insisted on talking to me.”
The earlier intimacy died as he pushed me away, his bewildered expression morphing into a hard, angry mask, but I pressed on. “I know it’s difficult to take all this in, but I’m trying to make some sense out of all this, and what I keep returning to is that your parents didn’t like me. I didn’t have enough money for them. I wasn’t in your league. So they made sure I’d never see you again.” To think someone narrowed me down to those characteristics hurt, but what else could it be?
For a second he faltered, something indecipherable flickering in his eyes, but then his lips thinned. “Keep going, Roe. I like hearing you expound on my family’s faults. Tell me more about how horrible they are.” Mockingly, he folded his arms.
Clinging to the hope that deep down, Ezra would listen to my explanation, I remained patient, even though I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. I already figured out his parents didn’t like me, but Ezra was the one whose legs had been knocked out from underneath him. “You don’t want to see it because you love them, and I understand that. But be rational.”
“So now I’m irrational.” He rose from the couch. “And not only is my family shallow, they’re deceitful liars. We’re terrible, horrible people, and you’re a completely perfect, innocent person who gets to sit here and pass judgment on them and me.”
As he spoke, Ezra moved toward the door, and I did nothing to stop him. Whatever remained between us was exploding in flames, and I was left behind in its ashes.
“What you think about me doesn’t matter anymore,” Ezra said, his soft voice deadly, ugly, his words striking like a dagger. “You don’t ever have to worry about seeing me again. I’m done with you.” He opened the door. “It’ll be a cold fucking day in hell before I see or speak to you again.”
The door slammed behind him, and I sat alone, overwhelmed by the pain of losing a piece of my past, of myself.
Chapter Nine
Son of a bitch. That fucking bastard.
That refrain played in my head over and over as I stomped out of Roe’s apartment and down the stairs, blindly making my way out of there. When I stepped outside, a wave of dizziness hit me, and I had to stop for a moment and lean against the rough brick wall. My mouth tasted of copper, metallic, and I realized I’d bitten the inside of my cheek so hard, I’d drawn blood.
“Shit,” I muttered and rubbed my face. The red haze before my eyes faded, and I took a shuddering breath.It can’t be true. He’s wrong.
“Excuse us, but are you okay?”
On the cement pathway to the front door, two women stood peering at me, their concern evident on their faces. One was in her sixties, tall and thin, her dark hair gathered in a no-nonsense ponytail liberally streaked with gray. The other woman was much older, well into her eighties or more, and held on to a shopping wagon, as I’d seen many elderly people do when out walking the streets. A bright-blue hat covered her head, and a multicolored scarf swathed her neck. She looked at me with sharp, bright eyes, and as she scrutinized me, I was reminded of a colorful bird.
“You’re him,” she said.
Despite the nuclear disaster of the previous hour, I couldn’t refrain from smiling. “That depends on whohimis. The possibilities are endless. Who do you think I am?”
“Ezra. Monroe’s friend.”
My smile vanished. “One part of that is correct. I’m Ezra. And you must be his mother and grandmother. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
Though it seemed oddly formal, we shook hands.
His mother’s smile was reminiscent of Monroe’s, and the throb of pain it brought me caught me unawares. “I’d hardly expect you to remember us from so many years ago.”
