Selfish.
He was so damn selfish.
During her good times, she’d been a great mom, attentive and caring. But they’d started coming less and less over the years. More often than not she was locked away in her bedroom, unresponsive. Sometimes weeks would go past without her saying one word to him. She’d stare into space, doped up on medication, or silently crying. He’d taken care of her. Made sure she ate and brushed her teeth. They had other family members who helped, but it was mainly him.
He thought he could leave her with them, that they’d take care of her.
Crouching down, he placed the roses he’d bought in front of her headstone. He didn’t know why he bought them every year. It seemed the right thing to do. Another pointless gesture. She wasn’t there anymore.
Anger shifted through the guilt. Yeah, he was angry, so damn angry, not just at himself but at her, and that made him feel even guiltier. It wasn’t her fault she’d been sick. But because of his screwed-up childhood, now he was a fucking mess. So fucked up that he’d hurt the woman he loved.
Sliding his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the crumpled, well-read note his mother had left him the day she’d taken her own life. He unfolded it, even though he didn’t need to read it—the words were branded in his mind—and ran his fingers over the fading ink.
Promise me you’ll make the most of this life. Do it for both of us. Do what I never could.
He knew that’s not what he’d been doing.
He’d been crawling on his stomach through broken glass all these years. Playing at living. Seeking the next high, then the next, in an attempt to get through each day.
He hadn’t been happy. He’d been playing a part, the ladies’ man, the player, free from commitment and messy emotions. Even convinced himself he liked it that way.
It was bullshit, though, all of it. He could see that now. Had been able to see it for a long time. He’d been self-medicating with sex. Desperate for a connection, a way to forget, to keep up the charade.
He’d been happy those few weeks with Lucy. Happier than he could ever remember being in his life.
Fuck. Who was he kidding? Happy didn’t come close to describing the way he’d felt when he was with her. Complete. Whole. Right. There’d been no tornado swirling inside him, no giant knot in the pit of his stomach. He’d felt…still. There was no other way to explain it. He hadn’t even known it was something he’d been missing, that stillness, until he’d slept with Lucy in his arms.
He stared back at the note gripped in his fingers.
Do what I never could.
He was failing. He wasn’t living life—he was running from it.
Something shifted inside him, and it was so profound he dropped to his knees.
He didn’t want to run anymore.
Lucy.
~ * ~
Pasta slipped off the end of Lucy’s fork back into her bowl. This was a celebration for her. She was going back to school. Well, finishing her degree there in LA. Studying part time would take a little longer, but she was determined to pay for it herself. Hugh and Joe had helped her enough. It was time she stood on her own two feet, and this was the first step toward her career, a future she’d always dreamed of. A career she wasn’t giving up on because of one cheating, manipulative creep. She’d needed the break from school to realize it was still what she wanted, to heal after the pain of losing her baby. After Adam ended things between them, she’d had plenty of time to think. Now she finally felt like she was back on the right path.
So why was she having a hard time getting happy?
“You gonna eat that?” Joe asked, dragging her bowl of fettuccine his way.
“Well…” Her brother shoved a forkful of her pasta into his mouth. She shook her head. “No, really, it’s fine. Help yourself, Joe.”
He grinned and shoved in more. “This is delicious.”
Darcey jabbed him with her elbow. “Gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
He straightened. “Gross?” Darcey chuckled as Joe popped his bottom lip out. “I’m wounded.”
Noah cracked up and shook his head. “She’s right. You’re totally gross, dude.”
Joe threw his balled-up napkin at Darcy’s little brother. “You traitor! Boys against girls remember!”
Darcey snorted. “Give Lucy back her dinner and stop being a pig.”
The three of them carried on teasing each other and laughing as if Lucy wasn’t even there. Wrapped up in each other. That’s the way it was supposed to be. She looked over at Hugh and Shay a little farther down, and they were just as bad. Hugh had a smile from ear to ear, while Shay playfully hit him on the arm. Going by the way Edna was cackling and Harold was blushing, Hugh had said something inappropriate, again.