Page 65 of No More Bad Boys
Suddenly, I feel very tired. I close the laptop and push away from the table.
“I’m going to shower and then to bed. Tomorrow I have class early, and then I’ll start looking for a new apartment.”
She follows me down the hall to the guest room. “You’re planning to move out of Kenley’s place?”
“She’ll be moving in with Larson after the wedding anyway. Might as well find myself a new roommate.” Setting the laptop on the bed, I head for the attached bathroom.
“Oh, dear. This really is bad. Cadence—”
Something about Momma’s desperate tone makes me turn around instead of continuing into the privacy of the bathroom, though I really don’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say.
Her face is stricken, her voice soft and genuine. “I never thought of you as second-best, you know. You were just… so different from me… more like your daddy, andsostubborn. So strong—you didn’t seem like you ever really needed me—or anyone.”
She shrugs miserably. “I didn’t know quite what to do with you.”
There’s a long pause as we stand just looking at each other. Then she says in a ragged whisper, “I did my best, baby. I’m sorry it wasn’t better. I do love you.”
Her emotional confession sucks all the fight out of me. I sigh deeply.
“I know.”
She approaches me tentatively and reaches for me, as if she’s afraid I’ll knock her away.
I don’t. Her slender arms wrap around me, and I hug her back, inhaling the sweet, familiar mom-smell I remember from earliest childhood.
It wasn’t all bad. I know that. And compared to what Blake’s had to overcome, life with my mom was a picnic.
“I love you, too, Momma,” I whisper.
She squeezes me tighter. After a minute she leaves, and I go into the bathroom and close the door, leaning one shoulder against it in exhaustion.
I’m tired of being mad at her, of blaming her. Kenley was right—I have to forgive Momma—if not for her sake, then for myown. And she does love me, in her own strange, selective way. I know it’s true.
Maybe Blake loves me too. In an I’ll-take-what-I-can-get way. But I want to be lovedbetterthan that. I want, for once in my pathetic life, to be someone’s first choice.
Is that too much to ask?
I get into the shower and try not to think of him. Without success. Like Kenley, Blake’s been calling.
Naturally, I’ve declined his calls and erased his messages without listening to them, as much as it kills me. It would hurt worse to hear his voice right now.
I miss him. And I still love him.
That apparently isn’t going to change overnight. But I have to get over it.
This is what I get for acting against logic. Pain and heartache and the world’s most awkward work environment.
I wish the hot, streaming water could somehow wash away the feelings that are still swarming my heart.
How will I face him tomorrow at the station?
I have to go in. Frank has started taking Mondays off as part of his phasing-out, as he calls it, so I’ll be the only engineer on duty.
If I call in sick, he’ll have to come in, and that’s not fair to Frank. This was part of the deal for me to have a secure, well-paying part-time job.
I check my laptop one more time before bed, studiously avoiding my email inbox. Mr. Semi-Cute Game Designer has responded “yes” to my invitation to meet.
Without any real enthusiasm, I message him and set up a dinner date for tomorrow after work at a pizza place near the station.
