Page 131 of Give Me Love

I fill a glass with orange juice and look through his cabinets for some headache meds, finding them above the fridge with a chair and some serious arm reaching. When I turn around, I see Mary coming down the stairs.

“Good morning,” she says to me.

“Good morning,” I reply, lifting the chair and putting it back under the table. I pick up his glass and head for the stairs as she gets the coffee pot out.

“I’m sure you must think I’m shit,” she says as I hit the bottom step.

I stop and turn around, looking at the woman who gave birth to the man I…care for. Love, whatever.

“I have no excuse for the things I’ve done in my life. Especially to my children. I put them through hell, but I think they came out okay, don’t you?”

Yeah, sure, one of them can’t stop partying and doing drugs, and the other has a difficult time loving people and showing his emotions. You didn’t fuck them up at all.

“I think they could have turned out worse.”

She nods and fills the pot with water. “Bryce seems to really care about you.”

“I care about him, too.”

“Good. I’m glad to know he has someone.”

I give her a closed-lip smile. “Enjoy your coffee.” I head up the stairs. I can’t say that we will be friends or even be close. I hold a grudge for mamas who leave their children. But Bryce does care for her, so I will be civil. I’ll always be polite and try to see the good in her. For him.

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Bryce is awake when I walk back into the room, and I hand him his juice and the meds. “Thanks,” he says, taking them from my hand. I sit down on the bed and run my fingers through my bed hair.“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, resting back against the headboard and running his thumb over the glass.

I shrug. “Don’t be. I’m glad I got to know more about you.”

He chuckles. “Like what you’ve learned?”

I smirk and look down, chewing on my lip.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“I’m wondering about your real father. I overheard you and your mom last night. You said it was her fault. That she jerked the wheel?”

He looks off, his chest slowly rising and falling. “When I was thirteen, we got into a bad car wreck. Jace was still little.” He shakes his head slightly.

“We’d just picked my mom up from a drug house. It was storming. She was messed up like always. He was drunk. They were fighting. This was the norm.” He looks down and chews his lip. “After all these years, I can still remember what they said to each other. She’d asked him why he wouldn’t leave her alone, and he simply said, ‘Because you’re all I have.’ It pissed me off. He had us. Two kids to raise,” he says, holding up his fingers. “I thought he was weak. So many nights, I thought he was pathetic crying over a woman who didn’t want to be around him. Who chose drugs over and over.

“But that was the thing about my parents. They fought, and they fought hard, but when they loved, it lit up a whole room. They were made for each other.” Bryce swallows, looking puzzled. “You know, I’ve always believed that love destroys.” He turns to look at me. “But now I think no two people have the same kind of love. I just don’t see things the way I used to,” he murmurs contemplatively.

“What’s changed?” I ask.

He stops running his thumb against the glass and says simply, “You.”

My smile is small, but my heart grows so big, I feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I reach my hand to cover his. His eyes go to our hands, and he flips his hand over to hold mine. “My mom jerked the wheel, the car flipped, and my father died.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Lee and Monnie found us. They were out hunting that morning, heard the wreck happen.”

“Wow. That’s horrible.” I mindlessly play with my lips as a million questions go through my mind. “So, your biological father died. How did Lee come to adopt you?”

“Mom signed away her rights and then disappeared when we were in the hospital. Pops wanted kids, and for some reason thought we were it for him.”

I shake my head. She’s a piece of work. Why is he helping her? Bryce moves his hand from mine and stretches his arms out. Vibrant art covers his skin, and his abs flex when he stretches upward. “I feel like shit,” he says.

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