Page 113 of Make Me Trust Again
There is no hiding the bitterness in my tone with every word that comes out of my mouth.
Mom’s gaze narrows at me. “Being crude and sarcastic doesn’t look good on you, Rose.”
“Nor does judgment look good on you, and yet here we are,” I throw back without missing a beat. Mom’s lips press into a thin frown at my harsh words, but there’s no going back. “Chase’s a good man, Mom. He’s good to me; he’s good to my son. Not just that, he makes Kyle happy.”
Mom’s blue eyes narrow at me. “Is that all?”
Something about the way she phrases the question has the hair at my nape standing at attention. “What else would it be?”
“Lori told me her granddaughter went out with friends the other weekend, and she was pretty sure she saw you with a man at the mini golf.”
Shit.
Stupid small towns and nosy people.
She tilts her head, her probing gaze taking me in. “So I just find it strange that the man you barely knew a few months ago isnow such a crucial figure in yours and your son’s life, and you’re acting this way.”
“Well, when you live next door to somebody for weeks, you kind of get to know them, Mom,” I grind out.
I refuse to let her make me feel guilty for allowing Kyle to spend time with Chase. Hell, or even for the fact that I enjoy being around him. There’s something calming about his presence. Not just that. He sees me. He sees the woman that I’ve been keeping deep inside me for all these years. He makes me feel alive and happy. There’s nothing wrong with that.
“See?” Mom gives me a pointed look. “There is this tone again. I raised you better than that, young lady. I swear, that man is a bad influence on you. First, he gets you to move out…”
“Chase didn’t have anything to do with that! Maybe I just got sick of explaining myself to you over and over, asking you to put my,your daughter’s, wishes first, only for you to disregard me every single time. Did you ever think of that?”
“Rose…” Mom jerks back as if I slapped her, but I’m done playing this game with her.
“No, Mom. You’ve been dismissing me this whole time. Acting like I’m not a grown-ass woman who knows what she’s doing. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I would have preferred not to get divorced? That I would have preferred if the man I fell in love with, the man who’s the father of my child, loved me back? Or hell, cared enough to make an effort to make this work? Marriage works both ways, and I could only try so hard on my own when my husband doesn’t give a crap about me or my son. When he has the audacity to bring another woman into our home. Our bed.”
“Wh-what?”
Dammit.
My cheeks are burning in embarrassment, but there is no going back now.
“I bet he didn’t tell you guys that, did he? You almost had me convinced at one point to forgive him, but then I saw him in our bed with another woman. It was the final wakeup call. I’m not going to stay in a relationship where my partner couldn’t care less about me or our son until the point we left. And not because he suddenly realized how much he loves me, but because he hates the idea that I’m the one who left him and worries what others will think of him.” I lift my chin up a notch. “When was the last time you saw him with Kyle?”
“H-he…” Mom blinks. “He just had him a few weeks ago.”
An unamused smile curls my lips. “He came to pick him up from my house, so he can gloat about it in my face. Ask your grandson what he did with his daddy that weekend.”
“What’s with all this ruckus?”
I turn around at the sound of my dad’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway, his gaze shifting from Mom to me, a frown etched deep between his brows. I take a long breath and force out a smile.
“We were just talking, but I should get going.” I run my hand through my hair, feeling antsy. I need to get out of here before I say something more. Before I say something I’m going to regret. “Do you want Kyle to stay?”
“Of course, he’s going to stay. Don’t be silly. We have a whole trip to the zoo planned. We’ll probably get in late, so I figured I’ll bring him around tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I nod slowly. “I’ll get going then. I’ll call him later to wish him a good night.”
I grab the mail from the counter and go for the door, where I kiss Dad’s cheek.
“Come for dinner soon?” he asks, rubbing my arm.
“Will do, Dad.” I glance over my shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later, Mom.”
I slip out of the room, and I’m almost at the door when I hear Mom calling my name. I curse inwardly at not being faster and turn around, trying to keep a straight face. “What? I grabbed my mail…” I lift it slightly, almost like a buffer.
