“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Something happened with my father?” She stops, dead in her tracks, but doesn’t even fucking look me in the eyes. “Are you okay?” Slowly, she raises her eyes and faces me; her pursed lips a distant impression of her smile.
“Everything’s okay, Lance,” she says, ice coating each one of her words. She takes one step back, forcing me to let go of her. “I just don’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I ask, not liking the fucking direction this conversation is taking. What the fuck is going on?
“It’s over, Lance. It was good while it lasted, but…” She licks her bottom lip, pausing while she tries to find the right words, but then just repeats herself. “It’s over.”
“Over? What the hell are you talking about?” I reach for her again, pulling her into the kitchen and slamming the fucking door behind us, making sure that we’re out of my father’s earshot. We can’t be over! What is this fucking nonsense?
Looking at me, Jocelyn manages a faded smile. “We’re over. It’s time to put an end to it. I know you can’t, so I’m doing it for you.”
I stand there like a fucking asshole, looking at her with an expression of pure disbelief on my face. Why is she saying all these fucking things? This doesn’t seem like her.
“Why?” I ask her, the sound of my fucking voice sounding foreign to my own ears. This can’t be fucking happening. She opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it again, almost as if she doesn’t know what to say. Running one hand through her hair, she bites down on her lower lip, and I see her eyes starting to water. I try and reach for her, but she turns her back to me, looking out the window. I don’t even know what to fucking say, so I just wait for her to regain her composure.
“Just go, Lance. You wanted to leave, didn’t you? To go to Europe? So go. There’s nothing holding you here.” She couldn’t be any more fucking wrong about that. How can she even say this when she was the one that asked me to stay?
“I can’t leave. You know that… I can’t leave you,” I say, my heart racing, and this time it isn’t a pleasant fucking feeling. There’s fear in my bones, fear of what’s happening right now. Fear of losing the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me.
“Not anymore, Lance. Just face it: this was fun, but it’s time we both face the real world. You’re just a kid, and I’m your stepmother. What did you think would happen?”
I take one step toward her, and grabbing her arm, make her turn to me. There are fucking tears streaming down her face, and I brush the back of my hand over her wet cheek. Just seeing her cry makes my heart fucking tighten up, rage coursing through me. I just want to punch whomever or whatever is making her feel like this, and the worst fucking part is that I don’t even know where to direct my rage.
“Do you want to know what I think? I think that I love you. I think that I want to be right here, close to you.” She shuts her eyes, and I feel her close to the breaking point. Somehow, she manages to hold her own, even though she’s on the verge of sobbing. I pull her into me, putting my arms around her and holding her tight, my hand on the back of her head. We remain like that for a whole minute, standing in silence as I hear her heart steadily beating against my chest. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper, not knowing if I believe my own fucking words. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay… I love you, that’s all that matters.”
She remains in silence, but then two heartbeats after my words, she pushes me away. Brushing away her tears, she looks me in the eyes, an icy kind of determination there. I feel as if the whole world is crashing around me and I can’t do a fucking thing about it. I’m fucking powerless.
“But I… But I don’t love you. I never did,” she says, the words cutting through me like a fucking knife. My heart tightens inside my chest, and I feel my blood turning into ice. It can’t be true… It’s just not fucking possible. She loves me, I know it.
“You’re lying… Why are you saying these things?” I ask her, feeling as if someone was trying to pull the ground from under my feet. This can’t be fucking happening.
“Lying? You’re just a kid, Lance. I never loved you,” she repeats, the words hitting me like a brick again. If someone ran over me with a fucking tank and then shot me in the chest I wouldn’t feel half as bad as I do right now. “You’re nice to look at, and you sure know what you’re doing between the sheets… But that’s all there is to it. What do you think I was going to do? Throw away a stable life because of a fling with a kid?”