Page 85 of Playful Kris

She stands, Titan cranes his neck, wondering why she’s getting up. She takes the short distance between us, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll let myself out, but we are going to work through this. I love you more than anything in this life, my boy. And I need to start communicating that better.” She bends, kissing my cheek. “We’ll have dinner next week, and it will be something we work on together. Okay?”

I look up at her, and for the first time in twenty years, I see my mom. The mom I grew up with before all the hatred set in. The mom who wasn’t depressed because my father bailed on us, and buried her with bills and two kids.

“Okay,” I say the word, feeling the weight suddenly lift from my body.

That baggage I had been carrying my entire life, nearly all gone with that simple word.

“I love you.” Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “Now go show Kameron that you love her.”

She walks away, heading for the door, and I sit in silence.

I love her. I’ve always loved her, even when we weren’t together, it’s always been her.

And I’ve got to figure out how to overcome this shit hole that I’ve dug myself into.

I just hope like hell I’m not too late.

34

KAMERON

I’ve buried myself in work since our trip to the mountains. It was all I could do to keep myself together.

When Kris and I split up in college, I was heartbroken, and I was angry, but I had my classes and didn’t have time to wallow in my grief of what the relationship once was.

This time, we weren’t even in a relationship other than casual sex for a weekend and nothing more. But yet this time, my heart aches every single time I think of him. The pain is so raw and real, sometimes it takes my breath away.

And why?

I agreed to this. I agreed to the idiocy of being friends with benefits for the weekend, and I knew it was going to end when we came home. But the way that it ended hurt worse than it ending in general.

Sighing, I dig my spoon further into my ice cream while I sit and watch the newest documentary that Netflix has released on the Menendez brothers. The Milli Vanilli songs have been stuck in my brain since that other series released, and now I’m fully engulfed in the true crime moments of Erik and Lyle Menendez.

This is adulthood folks.

How pathetic am I?

“I’m heading out to dinner with my cousin, are you sure you don’t want to come?” Cora asks.

“I’m sure, besides I already ate.” I shrug, reaching forward to pause the show. I can’t miss a single second of it.

“Ice cream isn’t a healthy food group, Kam.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “You need actual food to survive.”

“It’s the only food group I’m interested in right now.” I shove another spoonful into my mouth, smiling awkwardly at her, making her laugh.

“If you say so.” She shakes her head, pulling the door open. “Holler if you change your mind.”

“Doubtful,” I murmur, hitting play and feel my phone vibrate.

I groan, knowing it’s one of two people.

My mom asking if I’m okay, since I was apparently verydownat Thanksgiving. Or it’s a random “hello” text from Kris that goes unanswered.

My phone vibrates again and I sigh, shoving the spoon into the ice cream tub, since I’m being fancy and eating straight from the carton tonight, and slide it to the coffee table.

Oh, lucky me. It’s a text from both.

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