. . .
Cutler
“We have a deal,don’t we? Always brutal honesty. I’m never too busy for you, and you know that.”
“Well, you weren’t completely upfront about what was happening in Paris with that dickhead Gabriel, so I guess we were both protecting one another in a sense.” I glanced out at the water. I hated talking about Tara. Hated thinking about her if I was being honest. But this last time had bothered me more than usual.
“Fine. Moving forward, let’s not do that.” She popped a grape in her mouth. “What did she say?”
“She asked for money.”
Gracie seemed surprised by my words, and she looked up at me. “She asked you for money?”
She’d always just called and said she missed me or wanted to talk to me. She’d never hit me up for cash before, but I guess I’d never been in a position to give it to her before.
“What did you say?”
“I sent her the money,” I said without hesitation.
She sighed. “How much did she ask for?”
“Two thousand bucks. She said she couldn’t make rent and wondered if I’d help her.” I cleared my throat. “It’s pathetic, really.”
“Her coming to her son who she left as a young boy? Yes. It is pathetic,” she said, her voice harsher than usual. But it didn’t surprise me. We’d always been protective of one another.
It was that ride-or-die type of friendship I’d witnessed my father having when I was young.
I had it with this girl.
“That’s actually not what I meant, although you aren’t wrong.” I chuckled. “I meant that it’s pathetic that I wanted to give it to her, because some twisted part of me still wants her to like me, I guess.”
My chest squeezed as the words left my mouth.
I wouldn’t say this to anyone but Gracie Reynolds.
It was embarrassing as shit to admit that I still wanted to be accepted by a woman who’d turned her back on me. Turned her back on my pops.
I wasn’t looking for a mother, because I had the best one around. Emerson had adopted me, and I loved her fiercely.
But I guess the little boy in me still wanted the mother who’d given birth to me to see me and to realize she’d blown it.
To see some sort of regret in her eyes, or hear it in her voice.
It was fucked up, but it was my reality.
Gracie moved her sandwich to the side and scooted closer to me. She placed a hand on each side of my face, and her eyes were wet with emotion. “You’re the most lovable person I know, Cutler Heart. And there’s no shame in wanting to be loved by the person who is supposed to love you the most. I get it, you know I do. My biological mother doesn’t want to acknowledge me, and I’ve made peace with that. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting sometimes.”
I tugged her closer, settling her on my lap, because sometimes feeling so much and looking at Gracie overwhelmed me. I wrapped my arms around her, tucking her head in the crook of my neck.
“They both suck, don’t they?” I said, and she chuckled.
“I guess we really do share a bond.” She smiled up at me. “We got really lucky with our moms the second time around, though, didn’t we?”
“We did. That’s why I think I spiraled when my mom got sick all those years ago. That fear of abandonment was instilled in me at a young age, no matter how many times my pops talked to me about it. And then my mom came into my life, and she was everything a mother should be—and the thought of losing her? It was more than I could handle back then. Hell, I couldn’t handle it now.”
“She’s been cancer-free for many years, so she’s not going anywhere,” Gracie said, her fingers stroking the inside of my palm in the most soothing way.
“Yeah. And neither are you, Gracie Reynolds.”
