Don’t tell me this excuse of a woman gets to keep her child.
“What defined you is everything after.”
Wait, what?
“I don’t believe Lauren Kingston to be a fit parent for Maika Gale at this time and therefore give full custody to her father, Harry Gale.”
He then grants Lauren visitation rights but only if supervised by a social worker. He also says there is a way to revisit the custody arrangements if my mother agrees to go to therapy weekly for a year and gets herself checked into some alcohol treatment facility, but let’s be honest, that’s just to be politically correct. The chances of her actually going through with it are slim. I try to listen as he lists more and more conditions, but truth be told, none of it registers.
We won.
We won.
I hold no control over my body when Jay, my father, Judy, and I give in to the cliché family hug we see in the movies.
Except that this is better than movies.
This is real.
And tomorrow, at Kendrick’s birthday… We’ll actually have something to celebrate.
35
Stuck With You
Ushering up the stairs with Matt on my heels, I count all the reasons why seeing Haze again shouldn’t have felt the way it did. Reason #1: he chose revenge over me. Reason #2: he left me with nothing but a letter. Reason#3: he lied to me for months. You can’t really blame him for that. He had no choice. I curse my inner voice. Reason #4: …
Why can’t I find a fourth reason?
Ah. Reason #4: he’s probably still chasing a murderer.
“What are you thinking about? You’ve been quiet the whole way home,” Matt points out when I swing my bedroom door open.
“I’m sorry, today was a lot.”
What would he do if he knew what was going on inside my head? If he knew what I’m really thinking about?
After the trial, we all went out for a celebratory dinner at my dad’s favourite restaurant. Matt suggested that we watch movies at my house. His parents’ charity event is in two days, and since he can’t make it to Kendrick’s party, we won’t be seeing each other tomorrow.
As soon as we enter my bedroom, his arms are around my waist, tugging at my clothes a bit… insistently? I’m surprised when his hands skim under the fabric of my shirt and over my stomach. He kisses me, my back hitting my closed bedroom door. I try to be into it, I really do.
But I’m not. God, what’s wrong with me?
He keeps on kissing me, his hands on my waist hinting at his intentions. When he grabs the hem of my shirt and begins lifting it up, I can’t bite my tongue anymore.
“Matt, hm…” I apply pressure to his chest. “I’m really tired.”
I’ve never seen someone’s face change this quickly.
“Are you serious?” Oh, he’s pissed.
“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I’ve just had a really long day.” I could cringe at my own words.
“Do you even hear yourself?” He frowns. “We’ve been going out for months now, and you’ve barely let me touch you once. Why don’t you want this? I really like you, Winter, but it’s like… your foot’s always on the brake. I’m so sick of this one step forward, three steps back thing.”
I’ve been suspecting this moment would come from the very first time I rejected him. I just kept convincing myself that the next time he’d try, I’d be into it.
“Matt, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not ready. I—”