Page 27 of Tempting the Heart

Because I knew I couldn’t trust myself not to go low, and I was itching to go low. I wanted her to hurt like she’d hurt me so many times.

Countless times.

But then I’d just be as cruel as she was.

I took a deep breath and walked toward my mom.

“Listen, Mom. I don’t know when I’ll be back out here. I’ve got a guy to fix the porch coming out this week. House painters will be out on Wednesday to prep and Thursday to paint. It’s a fire hazard inside that house, and I don’t want anything to happen to you or Dad.”

She didn’t say a word before spinning around and going back inside. The door smacked shut behind her, and I closed my eyes, feeling the pressure build between my temples.

Coming back to Marigold was a mistake, but I’d be damned if I’d make it twice. I blinked my eyes open and glanced around the yard full of weeds when I heard the creak of the front door.

To my surprise, my dad stood with his walker and looked at me.

“I’d help you get rid of those damn magazines if I could,” he told me. “I’ve been trying for decades. Your mom’s such a pig.”

My breath caught in my throat.

What happened to these people?

Had life been so cruel to them that they'd stopped being decent?

From all appearances, my parents always had good jobs. Their bad habits made us struggle, making my parents’ tempers flare.

Or so we told ourselves as kids.

As I stood waist-deep in a yard of weeds, I sighed and looked up at my father. “Don’t call your wife names, please. It’s not needed.”

Maybe most sons would have come to their mom’s defense more, but I no longer had it in me.

I had to reconcile the fact many years ago that neither parent was the victim and that I didn’t care for either of them.

My mind flashed to Mae and her family, and guilt suddenly pummeled through me.

Yeah. It had definitely been a mistake to tell her how I’d felt so long ago.

How I was feeling now.

She deserved better.

So much better than this mess of a family.

I wasn’t even sure you could call it one. We all tried to avoid one another, and I’d spent a lifetime searching for answers.

I didn’t need to bring that kind of negativity to Mae or the rest of the Evans. They were good people. I couldn’t say the same for the rest of us.

“Listen, bud. I was hoping you could spot me a few hundred.”

My insides tensed. No wonder he was attempting to make nice, or his version of it.

“For what?” My brows lifted, but I already knew the answer.

“Does it matter?” he snapped. “I’m your father.”

I shook my head. “No. It really doesn’t. I’m just curious since you can’t leave the house, and I wired money the day before I got here.”

“You want us to go hungry?”

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