Page 9 of Aftersome
I wanted her to have hope that one day Mal would realize that he made a huge mistake but I was afraid that the day would never come.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it in that way… I just…” I shifted my legs on the couch and finally met her stare again. “I’m worried that he’ll never realize the mistake he made and I don’t want his actions or reasoning to cause you any more pain.”
Sadness washed over her face and I hated it.
“I told myself I was going to wait to ask you. At least wait until Greg was present, but I need to get it off my chest before I go insane.”
My chest sunk.
Worry plagued me, especially seeing the apprehensive look in her eyes.
“Okay.” I nodded while swallowing down the painful lump in my throat.
She then took a long, steady breath in and out as if she needed a moment to prepare.
“We need your help, Wren. To get Mal back home,” she said on a single breath. “I can’t let another ten years go by without seeing my son. I feel like a part of me is missing and every day I regret not going to him when I knew he needed us.” Her eyes slammed shut like she was in pain.
Immediately, I sprung off the couch and took the spot next to her.
“That’s why we need you.” She reached for my palm and held on tightly. “I saw how he was with you at the hospital that night. I saw a side of him that night that I’ve never seen before and I have a feeling if he were to see you again, he would listen to you.”
My heart rate began to take off as shock engulfed me. It all hit me at once, the idea of seeing Mal again, talking with him, reliving the past, it made me want to vomit.
“Shelia… I…” I began to stutter through my words, not quite knowing how to react or what to say.
“I know, Wren. I know. You don’t need to answer now. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to get that out in the open.” She squeezed my hand reassuringly as a somber smile curled on her lips.
The wordyeswas on the tip of my tongue. I wanted so badly to say it but as if I had smacked directly into a wall, every doubt, every fear, came rushing in, causing me to freeze up.
“Shelia… I want to, I just… I don’t…”
Fuck.
I was severely screwing this up.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s just forget I asked, okay? Greg and I will talk it over and figure something out.” She tried putting my mind at rest, but how could I?
There was no way I could ever forget this conversation and the obvious torment both Greg and Shelia were living with on a daily basis. It nearly destroyed me to hear that. Now she had it in her mind that the only way to get him was through me.
How was I going to persuade a grumpy, pissed-off-at-the-world hockey player who I highly doubted ever wanted to see me again? Chances of success were little to none, but I couldn’t tell Shelia that.
With her hand still wrapped in mine, she went back to watching TV as if nothing ever happened. And me? I was still dealing with the shock of it all by staring intensely at her side profile.
“Shelia…” I went to say again, but she cut me off with another firm squeeze of my hand.
“It’s okay, Wren. Promise.”
The rest of the night she never brought it up again. Even though I felt the need to bring it up every chance I had, I didn’t. I was still processing it myself. Once she left to go back home, I opened my computer.
For a while I just stared at the screen. A blank page of my blog that had yet to have any words on it. I needed something new to write about. Something different to my other entries, and all at once, it had hit me.
And on a final, much-needed breath of air, I began to write.
2
MAL
The alarm blared at five a.m. sharp. I reached my hand out to shut it off and on a muffled groan into my pillow, I pulled myself out of bed. For as long as I could remember, I had been an early riser. My days off weren’t any different, either, as I forced myself to stick to the same routine.
