Page 71 of Make Me Trust Again
“I get that, but maybe a change of scenery instead of being home alone isn’t such a bad idea.”
She got me there. The house seems eerily quiet. It’s such a contradiction, but it’s true. Kyle’s deaf, so it’s not like we can talk or yell to each other from room to room, but I haven’t realized just how quiet it can be when he isn’t around.
Since we’ve been living alone in the cottage, Kyle has relaxed so much. He’s been laughing more and making noises as he plays, and I love it. I’ve got a taste of what my kid is actually like, so now, after he’s left, the house seems even more silent than usual. It reminds me of last year, when we were still living with John. Kyle knew that his dad could come home at any time, and would get upset with his voice, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.
The thought of going back there, to that silence, to that moment, makes me shudder.
“I—” My tongue darts out, sliding over my dry lips. “Okay. Just for a little while.”
It’s not like somebody is waiting for me back home.
Not today, anyway.
“I think we should demand men start wearing kilts again,” Mrs. Miller declares, wiggling her brows. “I’m all about easier access.”
Her crude words have me choking slightly, but the other women must be used to her antics because they all collectively laugh.
“I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for, Tillie,” Mrs. Santiago chimes. “Not all men are as well-endowed as our Scottish Laird.”
Mrs. Miller takes a healthy sip from her wine glass as she waves her hand. “When you get to my age, you just want them to know how to use it properly.”
“As if.” Mrs. Tyson scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Most of them are still as clueless as when they were teenagers.”
“Most, but not all.” Mrs. Miller gives her friend a pointed look. “Some of them areverytalented.”
The color rises up my neck at the innuendo. I’m used to Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Tyson’s antics, but this is on a whole other level. I’m not sure if I should laugh or get the hell out of here. I bite the inside of my cheek when Mrs. Fernandez’s eyes meet mine.
“Oh, shush it, you two. You’re traumatizing the poor girl,” Mrs. Fernandez chastises, and suddenly, I can feel all eyes on me. “Ignore these two; they drink a few glasses of wine, and they’re three sheets to the wind.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Mrs. Miller is faster.
“As if we need to get drunk for that.” Mrs. Miller waves her off. “But Rosie here doesn’t mind.”
“You know what we should do.” Mrs. Tyson nudges her friend. “Now that she’s single and ready to mingle once again, we should find her a new boyfriend.”
Mrs. Miller nods. “That boy always had a stick stuck up his ass. And not in a good way.”
“Is there a good way to have a stick stuck up…” Becky’s words trail off when she sees the glint on Mrs. Miller’s face. “Oh, don’t mind me. Now I thinkI’mtraumatized.”
“Oh my…”
This time, I can’t help it. I burst into laughter to the point that tears start gathering in my eyes. The image that Mrs. Miller painted, vivid in my mind. She’s right, though. John always did have a stick up his ass. Something I didn’t see when I first met him. Maybe because I was just as stuck up as him.
That realization sobers me. I wipe under my eyes, blinking the group in focus to find all the ladies watching me. Most of them are smiling. Others have a slightly worried expression on their faces.
“You doing good, honey?” Mrs. Santiago asks.
“Yeah.” I let out a shaky breath. “You’re completely right, Mrs. Miller. He does have a stick up his ass. Makes me wonder how it took me so long to see it.”
The woman pats me on the knee. “You were in love. Love makes us all do stupid things.”
A knot forms in my throat at her words. Did I love John? Maybe. Back at the beginning. But any and all love I had for him died when we’ve become parents, and I saw how he was with Kyle. It was so hard for me to wrap my mind around it. How could he have been so cold and dismissive of our boy? However, lately, all I feel for him is contempt, some days even hate.
Mrs. Miller grips my knee, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Don’t you worry, we’ll find you and that sweet boy of yours somebody good, Rosie-girl. You’ll see.”
It takes me a moment to wrap my head around her words. I suck in a long breath, as my throat tightens, tears filling my eyelids all over again. This is the first time somebody isn’t trying to convince me to give John another chance. It feels good. Too damn good. Blinking a few times to chase away the tears, I put on a small smile. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.
