Page 145 of Before We're More Than Friends
“You know I’m not trying to.”
“Well, you are! What happened to the guy who was there when I was just a vet student?” She sniffled. “What happened to the guy I came home to every night and couldn’t wait to—” Mom’s gaze drifted to me, who had been hiding behind the wall. “Dallas?”
Turning into a little kid, I bolted into the bathroom. I lockedthe door and turned on the sink to make it sound like I was actually doing something other than being a coward.
Dad pounded on the door. “Come out here.”
I didn’t answer, studying my worried expression in the mirror.
“Dallas Alexander, don’t make me open the door.”
Gosh, not the dad voice. I groaned before flushing the toilet and opening the door. “I was just taking a piss.”
Dad shook his head. “What did I say about eavesdropping on us?”
Sheesh, was he going to lecture menow? They were arguing in the kitchen, not their bedroom. “I was just going to see if dinner was ready.”
“We usually call you down when it’s ready.”
“Gerald, stop it,” Mom demanded, appearing behind Dad. “We were fighting in the open.”
Dad faced Mom. “He doesn’t need to hear our private conversations.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t want him hearing you beat me down either, but you still do it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Stop always trying to find someone else to be upset with because you can’t control your own emotions.”
I knew I should run upstairs and pretend this wasn’t happening, drown this out with one of my playlists, but I wasn’t used to this. Toby had been in the middle of his parents’ fights. When I used to visit his house, we had to blast music to block out the arguing from downstairs before his dad forced us to shut it off. But right now, I was frozen in my spot.
“Leah, come on,” Dad said, using that soft tone guys used when they wanted a girl to calm down while downplaying her feelings. “You know where I’m coming from.”
“Where you’re coming from is your own selfishness.” Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “Everything has always beenabout what you wanted, but I followed along. And the moment I go after what I want, you suddenly become passive-aggressive.”
“That’s not true.” Dad put his hand on Mom’s shoulder.
Mom brushed his hand off. “I’ve spent my entire life putting other people first. I put my parents first. Then I met you and always put you first. Then we had the kids and always put them first. It’s always someone else before me.” She sniffled. “You named the kids, you won’t let us get another pet, you make our budget, youalwayshave the upper hand. But when I make decisions, you get upset.”
My chest hollowed, not used to Mom being this vulnerable. All she wanted was a chance to breathe after carrying our pain on her back. To be supported by the person she gave her life to.
“We’re going in circles, Leah,” Dad said, shaking his head.
“Because you’re not understanding.” Mom’s voice broke.
“I know I get frustrated. But . . .” A burning smell filled the air, and Dad’s nose wrinkled. “Leanne, the noodles!”
Mom cursed and rushed into the kitchen. After a few seconds, I heard her open the trash. When she came back out, tears were running down her cheeks. “Well, there goes dinner!”
“I can order something,” Dad offered. “It’s not too late?—”
“For me, it is!” With that, Mom stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, a lock following afterward.
Dad grunted before facing me. “What am I going to do?”
“You need to listen to her,” I said as I met his gaze. When I looked at him, I saw my physical features. The deep brown,almost black, eyes, his defined jawline, the curly hair, the six-foot-one frame. But in this moment, we were so different from each other.
I knew I couldn’t treat people I loved like that.
From the intense way he stared at me, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. I wondered if he looked into my eyes and saw half of himself.
After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about us.” He patted my shoulder. “Want me to order pizza for dinner? Or I can try to make some eggs.”
