Page 605 of The Tempted

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s like watching it happen all over again, only this time it’s my child I’m losing and I’ve already lost one,” she gasped, lifting her hand to cover her mouth as she shook her head.

She knows.

She knows she’s stuck with the damaged kid.

Look at what you’re doing to her.

Look at her cry.

“What I’m trying to say is— ““What you’re trying to say is you think I’m crazy,” I rasped as I climbed out of the bed and stared back at her.

“No, Lacey, I’m not saying that at all,” she argued, getting out of the bed to quickly walk around it, grabbing a hold of my hands as her eyes pleaded with mine.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I’m not crazy,” I insisted.

“No you’re not,” she agreed, through her tears.

“I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be fine,” I struggled. “I’m not like him. I’m just sad.”

“You’re just sad,” she repeated.

“I’ve been cooped up in this house too long and it’s getting to me,” I pulled my hands back and turned around, walked to my dresser and lifted my phone. “I need to be around other people. I need to live a little and I need to forget.”

“Lacey,” my mother tried.

“I’m fine mom,” I demanded, stepping back when she extended her hand to take mine. “Leave me be,” I warned.

She stared at me helplessly.

I remembered that look in her eyes.

It was there the day my brother died.

I closed my eyes, remembering my mother run down the street, seeing my father hold their lifeless son in his arms. She collapsed onto the ground and my father placed Jack’s body into her arms, allowing her to hold her baby one final time. I could still hear the cops trying to convince my parents to let him go and the shrill cry that escaped her mouth when they tried to take him from her. It was my father who wound up taking him from her arms and it was he who laid him on the gurney. They didn’t cover him like they do in the movies, they let his parents, our parents, see him one final time just as he looked when he slept instead of bringing a sheet up to cover his angelic face.

I opened my eyes as the tears streamed my cheeks.

I was the reason that day existed in our hearts.

I was the reason my mother lost her son.

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms tightly around her small frame.

“I’m okay, mom,” I cried. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She needed for me to get it together.

She needed me to put my mask on.

She squeezed me tightly, and I heard her whimper against my shoulder.

“You’re okay,” she whispered. “You are stronger than you know.”

I pulled away, lifted my hands to her face and wiped away her tears and forced the smile she needed to see.

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