Second Chance Boyfriend(71)
“Owen, stop.” I can’t put up with his attitude right now. Drew’s being nothing but kind and generous. Owen’s probably using his rudeness as a defense mechanism to cope or whatever, but I don’t want to deal. I can hardly wrap my head around what our mother has done to us.
Her mental abandonment has scarred me for life. Her physical abandonment will probably fuck up Owen’s head forever.
I hate her. So much I can hardly see straight, let alone think rationally.
At this very moment, I need Drew’s support more than ever.
* * * *
We get Owen settled first. Drew has a futon in his spare room, which he must use as an office, if the desk and computer are any indication. I help Drew make the futon into a bed, spreading out the extra blankets while Drew goes and grabs some pillows. It feels very domesticated and sweet and I know I could get used to this.
But I refuse to let myself. I can’t get all sappy and silly now. My brother needs me. I need to be strong and figure out what the hell I’m going to do next.
“Do you need anything?” I ask Owen when he walks into the room, his expression defiant. “A glass of water or maybe some Tylenol?” He’d cried on the drive over to Drew’s house, sniffling in the backseat of Drew’s extended cab. I wanted to comfort him so badly but knew he would refuse it.
“Something to eat maybe?” Drew suggests as he walks into the room with three fluffy pillows.
“I’m fine,” Owen says sullenly. I send him a pointed look and he adds a muttered thank-you to appease me.
“Do you want to talk?” I ask him quietly, both of us stepping out of the way so Drew can dump the pillows on the futon.
Owen shakes his head. “I’d rather be alone, Fabes. I just want to fall asleep and forget this ever happened.”
“It’ll just be there ready to face you again once you wake up,” I remind him. We can’t avoid this, even though I’d love to. But it’s staring me right in the face. I need to figure out what to do, where to go next.
“Thanks for the slap of reality.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I know you’re mad at her. But…I’m not. I’m worried about her. She won’t answer your calls and that sucks.”
I’d tried to call her at the apartment and on the way over to Drew’s. Went straight to voice mail. I left her a text. No reply and that was over an hour ago.
The woman is doing everything in her power to avoid us. There’s nothing we can do about it either.
“She’s fine.” I wave a hand. I have no doubt in my mind she’s perfectly safe. Probably chugging a beer and laughing her ass off how she pulled one over on us. “She’ll answer tomorrow, I’m sure of it.
Lies. I have no idea if she’ll answer me or not. For all I know, this is the last we’ll ever hear of her.
Wouldn’t bother me whatsoever either. I’m so done with this bullshit she puts us through. The emotional ringer we’re forced to deal with every time she flits in and out of our lives. I put up my walls long ago but Owen is still open and dying for Mom to love him. Really love him.
She doesn’t know how. And he hasn’t realized it yet.
Drew exits the room without a word, closing the door behind him, and I appreciate what he’s doing for us so much. He’s nonintrusive while I try to deal with my brother. He’s been nothing but gracious, opening his home up to both of us, giving Owen whatever he needs to ensure he’s comfortable here.
He’s amazing. And when I’m finished talking to Owen, I’m going to go to Drew and beg him to put his arms around me and just hold me.
I need him so badly right now. But first, I need to take care of my brother, who needs me more.
“What if she’s not fine?” Owen asks, his voice trembling. “What if something really did happen to her and she’s hurt and helpless somewhere? Or…worse? What then, Fable?”
The image his words conjure in my brain—no. There’s no way she’s a victim in all of this. She had a hand in it. I can feel it all the way in my bones. “I know you’re worried. But I need to be honest with you. She doesn’t care about us, Owen. Not like you want her to. She’s too wrapped up in her own problems to realize how much you need her. How much you want her around. She’d rather run off and go get drunk and hang out at the bar with her boyfriend.”
Owen stares at me, his cheeks red, his eyes filling with tears. “You don’t know shit. Maybe she doesn’t want to be around us because she knows how much you hate her.”
I flinch. “I’m not the one to blame here. She can’t stand the fact that we’re close. She’s jealous and it’s so stupid because she can’t see how much you crave that sort of closeness with her. She’s our mother yet she treats us like we’re nothing more than a pain in her ass.”