“There’s all this mix of emotions that I can’t seem to get a hold of.”
I take a seat on the nearby couch. “One second, I’m crying my eyes out, and in the next second, I’m angry with my mother for what she’s done and how she’s made me feel. Then I feel guilty for even feeling that.”
Zach takes a seat beside me. The warmth radiating off of his body already gives me comfort, just by him being so close. “That’s normal.”
Is it? Because I’m starting to feel completely insane. “It’s like five people inside me all telling me different things. I did everything I could to try to balance my mom out. I helped her with the bills. I would come by once or twice a week to help her clean and make her meals for the week.”
How was I supposed to know it wasn’t helping? Iwastreating her like a child. How was she supposed to get any better with me treating her like that? Somewhere along the lines, we switched roles: me becoming the parent, her becoming the child. It was only natural these roles be reversed at some point in life. But my mother’s only in her forties. It couldn’t have been a great boost to her ego to see her twenty-one-year-old daughter fussing over her all the time. Like she’s already got one foot in the grave.
I sigh.
Great, I’ve been enabling my mother all this time. “Recently, she just seemed like she had everything under control. All the dishes were clean when I would come over. She was taking care of herself. There wasn’t any clutter, everything looked organized. So I thought, you know, she’s fine, she doesn’t really need me that much.”
“So what happened?”
Lies. She was trying to hide from me and my enabling ways. She didn’t want me to see how bad things had really gotten. She knew I’d come in and try to fix everything. And that’s the last thing a person trying to keep everything together needs. Someone criticizing how they live their life. I did it out of love, of course. But had I gotten to the point of making her feel like I was judging her?
“I guess she hired a local kid from down the street to come to clean the house once a week,” I explain. “Some high school girl. That was the one who found her. I thought she was getting her life together, but apparently, it was all an act.”
“She probably just didn’t want to worry you.”
Probably.
It doesn’t hurt any less. “I thought that when my father died, that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. And then, the first time she tried to hurt herself, I just...I realized how little of my happiness was in my own hands.”
“Aly…”
Zach’s fingers stroke my cheeks. It’s the first time I realize I’m crying. I dab at my lids. Not a full-blown sob, just a small drizzle. For now. Panic emerges alongside my need to expel these feelings of sadness. I can’t hold back the tears for much longer, but I can’t pretend like this isn’t ripping me apart.
“I know I can’t control what she does,” I say, withholding another teardrop. “I know I can’t control what happens to anyone I care about, but I am terrified of losing her. I’m terrified of being alone.”
“You’re not going to be alone. Lyndsey is here for you. Even Marianne has taken to you. She keeps going on about all the things you guys are going to do together. All the families you’re going to help.”
Zach’s hand cups my chin, moving my face to meet his. “And I’m here for you. Whenever you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”
I laugh wryly, the sound coming out in a harsh scoff. “Until your fiancée snaps her fingers, right? How do you think this relationship is going to work once you’re married?”
How easily he’s forgotten.
No one makes me feel as safe and secure as Zach does. He couldn’t have a penny to his name, and I’d still feel the same. But if he were mine, I wouldn’t want him letting Chloe the long-legged blonde cry on his shoulder with her size DD breasts spilling out onto his arm.
I’m jealous. Fine. I can admit it. But I’m not in danger of falling in love with this man. Because I already am.
“Aly,” Zach whispers. “I broke it off with Chloe. There never was anything between us. I just couldn’t go through with it, knowing I would never see you again.”
“But your mother…”
Zach lifts one hand upward. “I offered her a way out. If she doesn’t take it, then I can’t be responsible for what she deems important or not.”
I guess I’m not the only one coming to terms with the fact that I can’t control what my parents do. “I’m so sorry, Zach.”
“For what?”
His brow dips low at the center of his forehead. The pale green in his gaze softens like mint green marshmallows. His concern for me melts the remaining barriers encircling my icy heart. “Aly, you have to stop blaming yourself for things that are not your responsibility. It’s okay to want things for yourself. It’s okay to want to do things because they make you happy, not just because you need to do them to take care of your responsibilities.”
I’ve never done that before. The words sound almost crazy.
His or yours?