Page 17 of Wreckage of Us
“Ma,” I try to talk her down from her high. “It’s so fucking complicated, you can’t even imagine.”
“It’ll all work out, honey,” she whispers in my chest. “You’ll see.”
I wish I could believe her. The words I said to Becca, I’m not sure she’ll accept me taking them back. This is bad, so bad.
Also, fuckin’ hell,she is having my baby.
I never imagined I’d be in this situation, especially after the way Ethan’s birth came about. On that first night, though, when I broke into her car, she did tell me that she was not on any birth control.
What did I do? I freaked the fuck out. Then, I went ahead and fucked her without a condom. More than once. More than twice… I just fucked her without a condom every single time.
I guess, deep down, I was hoping for this outcome. I needed her to force my hand and make me stay here with her. I just needed the decision to be taken out of my hands for once.
And now that it is, it’s all a cluster fuck.
“I’m sorry to do this right now, but I’m going to need you inside the house with me,” Ma whispers in my ear. “I need to talk to Wyatt.”
I wrap my mother in my arms and sigh. I don’t remember very many moments like this in my lifetime. The last time I let her hug me was right before I left for Wisconsin on the run my father had forced my hand to go on. She begged me not to go, but I did it anyway.
After so many years where I treated her like a dog under the pretense of protecting her, I have to face the reality of her always being there for me, protecting me.
Like on the day when my father was going to shoot me in the head, but she was listening at the door and burst into the room. That’s also the day I found out I had a son.
My eyes search for Ethan, expecting him to look like the scared little boy I remember him being when he stayed at the clubhouse with me. Instead, I find him laughing with Alison. She is pointing at the baby strapped to Wyatt’s chest, making Ethan bob his head up and down in a dramatic fashion, looking like a bobblehead.
“This is gonna be weird,” I grin at Devereaux over Ma’s head.
“She needs your help in there,” Devereaux’s eyes are cold when he says the words, but there’s an undercurrent happening there. He wants to make Ma happy. And I can imagine that telling a grown man that you are his father is not something that’s easy to do. I can relate to it to some extent. Well, not to telling a grown man about being his father. But telling a little one…
I look back at Ethan. He is now tucked in Alison’s arms, head on her shoulder as she rocks him gently from side to side, kissing him on the head every so often. If nothing else, I know I did a good thing when I asked Wyatt if he could raise him. I will never take that away from them.
“I can’t believe you’re making me a grandma again,” Ma whispers again into my chest. “After we clear the air with Wyatt,” she continues, “I’ll go see Becca.”
“Ma,” I sigh. “Things with Becca are not good.”
She brings her head up to look at my face. “What do you mean?”
“I just,” I shake my head and look around, avoiding eye contact with her. “I was an asshole.”
“About the baby?” Ma sounds horrified.
“I thought she was having a baby with Dr. Douche,” I try explaining. “I told her some things that…”
“You broke that girl’s heart,” Ma concludes in disappointment. “You’re going to fix it.”
“I’ll try, but…”
“No,” Ma’s eyes go cold. “There is no excuse for this, Dylan. None. After all the things she did trying to help you when she thought you were in prison, and you break her like this?”
“I know,” I sigh. I am just as disappointed in myself. What the fuck was I thinking?
“You’re going to fix this, Dylan,” she repeats, more forcefully this time. “For you. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you leave things as they are now.”
I sigh again and run my hands through my hair, messing it all up.
“Let’s get this shit with Wyatt figured out first, okay?” I wrap an arm around my mother’s shoulders and signal to Devereaux that it’s time.
We walk to where my brother is standing with his family. It looks like he is all done with his popsicle now.
