Page 27 of Say You Love Me

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I covered my face with my hands and groaned.

And then she had stepped all over my ego, my pride, my fucking dignity. She was really good at that.

To cap off a stellar forty-eight hours, I hadn’t slept for shit last night, mostly because Mom had called late wanting to cry about my dad for the millionth time.

Dad had walked out on her... again. They had argued that the electric bill is too high and Dad had, per usual, blamed Mom. In an angry temper tantrum, he had packed a bag and left his wife of forty-three years with no word on where he was going.

“You know he’ll sleep at Gus’ for a night or two then come back. He always comes back, Mom.” What I wanted to tell her was she should hope he didn’t come home because my father was a mean, nasty son of a bitch and he treated my mother like garbage.

Their yo-yo of marriage had left my mother emotionally weak and entirely too dependent on the men in her life. As an only child, I bore the brunt of my mother’s clinginess. It wasn’t by chance that I chose to live over two hours away from my hometown in southern New Jersey.

It also didn’t take a Ph.D. to know that my messed-up view of relationships was entirely rooted in my front-row seat to the shitshow that was my parents’ lives.

“But what if this time is different, Jeremy? What if he’s left for good?” I hated the way her voice wobbled when she started crying. I mostly hated the man who made her feel so badly about herself.

I had barely spoken to my dad in years, but I could never turn my back on my mom. No matter how frustrated I was with her inability to walk away from my father. She was the only family I had—Dad didn’t count.

“He’ll be back once he cools down. Now go run yourself a bath and use those salts I got you for Mother’s Day. They’re lavender, your favorite. It’ll make you feel better. And try not to worry about what Dad’s doing.” I made sure to keep the irritation out of my voice, knowing it would only upset her.

“You’re right. You’re always right, Jer-Jer. He’ll come home and I’ll apologize, and things will be fine.” Mom sounded more upbeat, which was good. I tried not to cringe at how willingly she took the blame for every problem in her marriage.

This was why I knew, without a doubt, I could never have a family. I didn’t trust that I hadn’t inherited his crappy DNA.

When I got off the phone with my mother I was feeling emotionally drained. There were only two things that could take the edge off when I felt that way. Sex and work.

Yet the thought of heading out to a bar and picking up some stranger didn’t have the appeal it normally did. So instead I opened my laptop and worked on my latest case into the early hours of Monday morning. I finally crashed around one and my alarm had gone off only six hours later. It was needless to say that I was anything but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“Have you had a chance to look through the applicants?” Adam asked, walking into my office a little after nine looking perfectly pressed and entirely too upbeat.

“I just walked in the door, give a guy time to get caffeinated,” I complained, rubbing my temples.

“Late night?” he asked, dropping a pile of folders onto my desk. I pushed them aside.

“Yeah, it was.” I watched in annoyance as my partner made himself at home in my expensive Italian leather chair. I wasn’t in the mood for chit chat knowing I was completely off my banter game.

“So, who was it this time? Greta? Linda? Rose?” Adam grinned mockingly.

Normally I would regale him with some tawdry story of my sexcapades but considering I hadn’t been laid in weeks and I was operating on minimal sleep, I wasn’t in the mood for his ribbing.

“If you must know I spent the night with Tom. Tom Carrick.”

Adam frowned. “Who?”

I lifted up the heavy file on the corner of my desk and let it drop with a bang. “The white-collar criminal Tom Carrick. I was ass-deep in witness statements all night.”

“Jesus, who shit in your cornflakes?”

I sighed. “Sorry, man, I’m tired and wearing my cranky pants today. Don’t take it personally.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Talked to my mom last night.”

“How is she?” Adam asked softly. He knew the score of my family. He and Rob were the only two people on the planet I had confided in about my crappy home life growing up. I shared some of the minor details during a late night of whiskey and very little sleep when the law firm was newly established. Neither of my partners had offered much in the way of condolences or sympathy, thank god. I would have throat punched both if they had tried.


Tags: Sarah J. Brooks Romance