It wasn't long after I had got out of the tub that Brett came into my room to announce that he and Carly were leaving to go back to Boston. Bosco hadn't returned from where ever he had gone to cool off, but it also meant that he wouldn't get to say good bye to his son.

He looked taller than ever to me that day, with his head held high and his shoulders back. He stood waiting at the foot of my bed, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. He had his sheep skin coat on with a dark burgundy sweater underneath and a pair of dark dress pants. He was leaving me again, and before we had a chance to talk further.

It was obvious that he had heard Bosco's ranting and his unkind words, from the deep way he had set his jaw and curled out his lovely shaped lips.

'I'm leaving.' He said curtly, ignoring the hurt look on my face.

I came out of the bathroom and rushed over to embrace him. 'Please don't go yet! We didn't get to talk about this...please stay another day.' I begged, hugging him tightly to me.

He shrugged out of my arms and looked down at me. ' Mom, I heard what dad said and I didn't like it. She's not a slut. She's my...my...' he looked around searching for the appropriate words.

"The love of my life. And even though she has hurt me deeply, I won't turn my back on her. Not now. Not ever. I'll talk to you later.' He turned then and attempted to walk away from me.

'Brett Charles Boscorelli! Don't walk out on me!' I cried angrily. I couldn't help it...he was walking out on me before we even had a chance to discuss it. It made me feel worse that he was being mean to me when he had cried on my shoulder and I had been there for him. He still needed me whether or not he would admit it, and I wasn't letting him walk out of my house on bad terms with his own father.

'I'm not a child any more mom.' He said over his shoulder as he exited my bedroom and started down the hall. ' And you can't tell me what to do.'

I ran out of my bedroom and down the stairs behind him, ignoring the fact that Emma and Rob and Little Faith had just risen and were coming out of their room. Little Faith gurgled happily in her father's arms and reached out for me.

' Hi mom.' Emma said, as I ran by them.

She and Rob looked at one another and followed me down the stairs.

'Brett!' I cried, reaching the bottom step and grabbing on to his coat.

'What?' He turned and yelled at me, his face a flame of anger. His deep blue eyes pierced through me, making me feel every bit of his displaced emotions

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. 'There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you but you need to stop right now and talk to me. Don't you walk away from me, young man, for I am still your mother and I have a right to talk to you when ever I want!' I shrilled at him.

He stood still, gaping at me and I realized I had never spoken to him that way before but at least I had his attention for the moment.

I took another step forward. 'I am very sorry that you are hurt and your father is sorry, so sorry, that he tore out of here before he lost his mind. Now, what you heard this morning was him expressing himself in a surprised manor, in which he will be sorry for later. Don't walk out of here without saying goodbye to him. He loves you and he is very upset that Carly would do this to you.'

'What did Carly do? What's going on here?' Emma interrupted from the stairs, where the three of them had stopped. Rob held Little Faith against his chest, a look of confusion written over his handsome features.

Brett looked up and her and back at me and shook his head. 'Just great! Is everyone going to know what happened now? Is my whole personal life going to be an open book?' He yelled.

Emma, clearly hurt and surprised at her older brother's reaction, didn't know what to say. Tears welled up in her deep blue eyes and she reached her hand up to brush them away. Rob put a protective arm around her and whispered something in her ear. They finished walking down the stairs and went down our long hall into the kitchen. Not a word was said.

He turned from me and put his hand on the door knob and leaned his head and rested it on the wooden doorframe, seemingly exhausted. 'I don't care to discuss this with you any further, mother.' He said simply.

'Fine. Don't then. But I'll tell you that your father and I both understand what you're going through and we want to talk to you about it. Why don't you move home for a while?' I suggested, liking the theory.

He laughed, a thin and brittle laugh. 'And what? Have you and dad in my face all day long? I don't' think so!' He spat at me.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I found it hard to breathe. He had never been so hateful and hurtful and I realized at that moment that maybe I didn't know my third son as well as I thought I had. He had been with us for four days and he had hid his sorrow and anger very well, up until this point. He was acting like a person that I had never seen before.

Brett had never had a temper. He was always calm and he never, never said hurtful things. Maybe he had just grown up to be someone that I didn't realize. I knew that all children are different to their mothers than they are to everyone else, and that they almost have two personalities; One that they show to their families and the other that is their true selves. But the way he was acting came as such a shock to me that I couldn't make my brain compute as to how he had become this way.

'Brett, don't talk to me like that! I love you and it hurts me to hear you speak to me with such anger. Why don't you consider it? You could take some time off work and then decide what you want..'

'What I want to do? Is that what you were going to say? Do you think that I'd actually leave my..my...girlfriend in the lurch when things got bad?' He yelled again, furious with me for even saying such a thing.

' Well, you aren't going to stay with her now that she's pregnant with another man's child are you?' I yelled back at him, starting to lose control of myself.

He pointed at me, his whole face red and aflame with anger. 'Don't even say it! I'm not leaving her, do you get that? She's my...she's my...' He floundered and stopped what he was going to say. ' Oh what the hell does it matter anymore?' He shouted, looking up at the ceiling.

I was starting to get scared. I never thought that I would be afraid of my own child, but the truth was that he was not the Brett that I raised and he was not the young man I thought he was. The look in his eye was pure rage. Even his usually calm eyes were bloodshot and wild looking.

At that moment I wondered if he had a drinking problem or a drug problem that we didn't know about. He had drank at least three or four drinks a day for the whole time he had been home, but I had thought at the time that it was just because of the season.

I stepped back a few feet and crossed my arms over my breasts, not knowing what to say but knowing that I had to say something to let him know that we still supported him. He was still my son and no matter what ugly words came out of his mouth, I had to tell myself that it was only because he was hurting so badly.

'You'll get over it eventually, we'll be here to help you. You can get another girlfriend when you're ready.' I said softly.

This time he turned from me and swung open the door and when he looked back, it was with disgust.

'She's not my girlfriend, mother. She's my wife.'