Ben’s hands fly into the air. “I didn’t shoot him or anything! It’s not my fault the drugs weren’t mixed right.”
“Get out of here and never come back,” I say. “And tell your parents they’re done seeing Bernie, too.”
“Did you forget who my parents are, Misty?” Ben asks with a cocky grin. “We’ll bury you in legal fees.”
“I’ll bury you in the fucking ground before you ever have the chance,” Zep says. “Or maybe I’ll just knock your ass out and hand you over to the cops. Doubt you’ll get bail.”
There’s a look of panic that crosses Ben’s face. And not at the death threat. He’s scared to be arrested.
Oh my God, it’s true. Everything Zep said about the father of my child is true.
“What happened to you?” I ask.
I feel sick. Absolutely sick.
“You happened to me!” he shouts. “You didn’t get rid of her like I wanted you to, and everyone thinks I’m this deadbeat father because I wanted a normal life.”
“You are a deadbeat father,” Zep says. “And a fucking asshole.”
Ben just turns on his heel and heads back to his car. I’m conflicted because I know things could have been so much worse if Zep wasn’t here, but I still can’t look at him without feeling like my heart is being ripped straight out of my chest.
“Thank you,” I manage without making eye contact. “I need to talk to Bernie.”
“I’ll be home if you need anything.”
I walk inside, and Bernie sits on the stairs with her arms wrapped around her knees. “You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I never wanted you to know,” I say. “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, baby. You’re my entire world.”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t mean you get to lie to me.”
“Being a mom is hard,” I admit. “We grew up together, Bernie. We’re still growing, and it might not have been the right choice, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I love you so much, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep you from feeling pain.”
“I sent him cards for Father’s Day. Did he get any of them?”
Nodding, I kneel in front of her. “I sent them to him. I got his address from Granny and Papa, and I mailed them.”
“The birthday cards he sent me… They were from you, weren’t they?”
I bite my trembling lip. “Yes.”
“You lied to me for eight years, Mom!” Bernie’s lip quivers as she looks at me with such betrayal. “You lied to my face. You say lying is the one thing we never do to each other. Friends don’t lie!”
“I’m sorry, Bernie—”
Pushing past me, she rushes outside. I run after her, but I have to stop for a car, giving her time to reach Zeppelin who sits on his porch.
He knew she’d come running to him.
“Give us a few minutes, Mama,” Zep says.
The way Bernie refuses to look at me, her back toward me as she shakes with sobs, makes me want to fall to my knees and wail. How the hell did this get so screwed up?
“Make sure she gets home?” I ask, wiping my eyes.
