Edward
I don't ring the bell at the client's house. Instead, I decided to wait until tomorrow, since they preferred me to work there on Saturday, anyway. They're nice regulars, so I like to go the extra mile for people like that. Even if that means working on the weekends. Renée's never home anyway. And I can't risk taking out Bella to do something fun. So I better work instead of going absolutely crazy.
My phone sits on the passenger seat of my truck, and it's like it's burning a hole through the black leather. I kinda want to text Bella, I kinda want to reread the messages she's sent me. And I kinda really want to just go pick her up and take her away to a hotel to spend the night with her—for real, with room service and a bubble bath. Honestly, just the thought of falling asleep next to her warms my heart. But I can't do that.
Right now, I need to make arrangements. And I can't stay in that house while I conduct this plan. I already know my wife is cheating on me, and although I had a hunch before, I can't bury my pride any longer and act like nothing is going on. I can't sleep in the same bed as Renée for even one more minute.
When it's six o'clock, I find myself on an all too familiar driveway across town. A driveway I haven't parked on in a while. In way too long, to be fair. Mom really doesn't deserve this from her only son. But Renée always acts as if my family isn't good enough. I guess a blue-collar household wasn't what she wanted to marry into. And I guess I was blinded enough to follow her. But no more of that shit. I'm done. Absolutely done. I cannot believe I've been so fucking stupid to abandon my family like this.
I ring the doorbell, smiling when I hear Goldie barking, and my mom shushing her.
She opens the door, a surprised expression on her face as she wipes her hands on a lavender tea towel.
"Oh, good heavens." Her green eyes are watery, the towel thrown over her shoulder before my mother's arms guide me home. "My sweet boy," she mutters.
"I'm sorry, Mom…" I say, my voice cracking as I hug her back.
"Shh," she whispers, squeezing me closer. I may be a grown man, but this woman makes me feel like I'm just a boy again. She makes me feel safe, secure, worthy. My mother's arms make me feel like I'm finally home again. In every sense of the word.
We stand on the front porch for what seems like hours, but as the oven beeps inside, Mom pulls away, hands on my biceps, looking up at me.
"God, darling mine." She shakes her head. "Please tell me you haven't eaten yet."
I chuckle.
"I haven't. Got a plate for me?"
"There's always food in the house for my babies, you know that. Now get your ass inside. I have a pasta dish in the oven."
Just like that, it's like no time has passed at all. If my mother had any type of superpower, it would be forgiveness. Her heart is the size of Texas. Bigger even.
Goldie flutters in between my legs, her shaggy fur shiny, brown eyes kind and excited.
"I missed you, too, sweet girl," I say to her, crouching down as I scratch her head.
"Your sister was supposed to come over with the little one, but he got home from school with a nasty, nasty cold so we rescheduled," Mom tells me, rummaging around in the cupboard before she sets the table. "So I have all this extra food."
"How is Rose doing?" I wonder. I haven't heard from her in a few weeks, which is odd since she's persistent and stubborn, and insists on texting me once a week, even though my wife thinks she's 'white trash'.
"She's having a hard time, to be honest, juggling two jobs and caring for Mitch all by herself. Poor thing hasn't had the proper time to grieve." Mom shakes her head. My brother-in-law passed away six months ago on the job. He was in the military and got killed by a fucking landmine in Afghanistan. She hadn't seen her husband in three months when she got the call.
"I should probably go see her, too." I feel like the worst sibling in the world.
"She'd love that, Edwardy. You know how she is, so damn independent and stubborn…she's asking about you all the time but she won't be the first to pick up the phone and ask for help."
"I know."
"Wanna split a bottle of Chardonnay with me, sweetheart?" Mom asks, her head buried into the fridge.
"I'd like that…we could probably use it," I start. Mom turns, brows furrowed.
"Edward, what's going on?"
"I'll let you guess," I chuckle humorlessly.
"God fucking damnit," Mom curses, screwing the lid of the bottle and dunking a generous amount into two glasses. "I fucking knew it, I told you—fucking warned you, Edward." My mother swears like a sailor but looks like a little librarian. She takes no shit and always raised us to grow up the same way.
"I know, Mom…I fucking know."
"Who is it?" She sits down and sips her glass, sliding mine across the table. It's as if everyone knew from the start Renée would screw me over, and screw someone else.
"I don't know yet…"
"Edward, what did I tell you?" Mom shakes her head.
"Not to trust bitches who have had more husbands than you've had cars?" It makes me chuckle a bit.
"Exactly!" Mom throws her hands up. "But did you listen?" She arches a brow at me. "No, no, no, because Edward Cullen only saw a pair of fake tits and a toxic smile."
I don't have words. She's right. I was dumb and fell for her tricks.
"Edward, you're a smart guy. I still don't know why you let that one sink her hooks into you…"
"I don't know either."
"So, what are you gonna do now, son?"
I sigh. It takes off some of the weight on my shoulders.
"I wanted to ask if I could stay with you for a while. You know, until I figure things out."
"You're gonna file for divorce, right?"
"Absolutely." Somehow that makes me smile. Now I have two people in my corner.
"Now, let's eat," Mom announces. "We'll get you settled into the guest room after dinner." She squeezes my hand affectionately.
For a second, I forget about the shitty parts of my life. I figured my mother would be angry at me, but in fact…it's like I never left. Seeing my mother treat me the way she does, the way she's always done all my life makes me wonder what the fuck is wrong with Renée. And why she treats her daughter like shit.
