Casey
Around noon, I pulled up to the address that I’d been carrying around for years. The sky was clear, and all the snow near the road was dirty and gray.
The house looked fucking stellar. The big white two-story sat at the top of a hill, with a green wreath on the front door and a circular drive and two giant columns at the porch. It was one of the fanciest buildings in West Creek, and looking at it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Weird, that I’d never even seen the house where my mom lived. But she moved in with her new husband pretty quick after I graduated high school, and the only time I’d been back to town, I just hadn’t had the guts to visit.
I parked my Jeep on the road, then hopped out. For a second, I stood there and hopped back and forth to fight off the cold.
What the fuck was I doing? I didn’t need to see my mom. If your own mother never bothered to call you, that definitely said something. And coming back to her, crawling back like I need something from her, I was better than that.
Except I did need something from her. It didn’t make any sense, but something deep inside of me demanded I come here. She’d rejected me all those years ago, and maybe if I could finally, really understand why, it could help me accept that I wasn’t good enough for Blake and Russell.
Maybe she could help me move on because losing those two was more painful than I could handle.
I took a deep breath, then walked up to the door. My hand was shaking as I pounded, and I almost turned to walk away right there, leaving before she could reject me again.
But then—she answered. Mom stood there in front of me in a red housecoat. Her face was tired, and she had dyed her hair jet black, but it was still her. Even beneath the wrinkles, I could see the woman who had raised me.
I could see my mom.
Her eyes grew wider, and she froze. It felt like my mouth was dry, and my heart was going to break my ribs. “Mom,” I finally said.
She stood there, holding the door open as cold air rushed into her house. “Casey. What are you doing here?”
I snorted a laugh. “Just swinging by for a casual chat.”
She pursed her lips. It was five seconds into our reunion, and already, she was annoyed by my attitude. Great fucking start, Casey.
Tightening her housecoat, she stared at me. The frustration on her face gave way to a sadness that started in her eyes. All the hurt and pain and loneliness of the past years poured through me, and I tightened my hands into fists, the anger nearly winning out.
“Well?” I asked. “You have anything to say?”
She winced. “I suppose that’s fair.” Instead of letting me in, she stepped out, half-closing the door behind her. “Are you back in town?”
“Just today.”
She considered me. “I’d invite you in, but I’m afraid it’s not a good time.”
Right then, I almost turned around and gave up. She didn’t care about me, just like she never had. All she cared about was her nice house and her new husband.
But then I thought of Russell and Blake. They’d want me to stand up for myself, I knew, just like we all tried to stand up for each other. And Blake had encouraged me to do exactly this a few times over the years.
Mainly, though, I knew that if I didn’t tell Mom what I was feeling, I’d never be able to tell my guys what I felt, either.
“I’m on my way out of town,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you something first.”
She nodded, a hesitant, defensive look in her eyes. “Go on.”
“I’m not like you,” I said. My voice caught in my throat, but I pushed through. “I thought that maybe I was. I thought that, if I cared about someone, I’d just end up hurting that person. Like I’d always end up abandoned, or abandoning, or whatever.”
“Casey…”
I held up a hand to stop her. When I was a kid, she would never let me do something like that, and adrenaline flooded my veins to do it now. “But I’m not like you,” I repeated. “Because there are people I care about, and I’m going to treat them right, no matter what. I’m going to make sure they’re happy because that’s what will make me happy.” My breath rattled in my chest. I knew I was about to cry, and I did not want her to see me fucking cry, but the words were pouring out, and I couldn’t stop them. “I’m a good person, Mom, and you really fucking missed out on knowing me.”
She let out a disapproving scoff when I cursed. “Casey, are you drunk? I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I tried to hold her eye, but she turned away. The tears start to leak out, and I couldn’t allow her to see how much she’d hurt me. For just a second, I lingered, thinking I might get a response from her, but then something clicked in my head.
