“I wanted him to be sure because I promise you, Beau, that was it. That was the last time!”
My nostrils flare. I drive my fist into the table top, and pain claws up my arm as a result. “I’m here!I love you. I love Jett. I. Am. Here.” I slam my fingers into my sternum, my temples pounding as I shout. “Why are you still dying for him to be here whenI am here?!”
I’ve never felt as inferior as I do right at this moment, and I fucking hate it.
“I’m here for you. Always, Beck. But you have to let go of him or you’re letting go of me.” Turning, I make my way down the hall and swipe a pillow and blanket from her unmade bed. The same bed where I nursed her full, gorgeous tits and ate her out until she screamed by name. Returning to the living room, Beck hovers between it and the kitchen. She watches me shove a pillow and blanket down on the couch.
“What are you doing?” she asks, voice shaky and small.
“This is me being here, Beck. Even though I’m hurt,” I say, covering my chest with a palm. I swear I can feel the tender ache running a divide through my heart. “I’m here. I’m here becauseIdon’t run.I’mthe man that stays because I love you and I love Jett.”
I kick off my shoes as Jett appears by the edge of the couch. I lift him onto my chest and he lies flat against me. Today was fun, and I’m sure he’s exhausted. Beck peels him from me.
“I’m going to feed him, bathe him, and get him to bed.”
I can hardly look at her, but I force myself for him. “Bring him to me after you feed him. I’ll bathe him and get him down.”
She stares at me blankly, eyes full of tears. “Okay.” That’s all she says.
After she returns with a well-fed Jett, I do as promised and get my man bathed and put to bed. I sing to him a little and rub his back and eventually fall asleep on the floor next to his crib because I’m too tired to face the pain waiting for me.
24
Beck
The fucking Wrench King himself.
“He said he loves Jett. He said it twice,” I whisper into the receiver, my hand cupped over it like it’s adding some extra level of privacy.
Mom and Goldie sigh dreamily into the phone.
First, I called Goldie’s cell, but when she told me she and mom were playing cards and that my dad was watchingSurvivor, I had them call me back from mom’s house line. They’re both on a handset now as I recount the awful last few hours.
“Oh, sweetie,” mom sighs sympathetically. “You really screwed the pooch on this one.”
“Mom!” I hiss, angry tears streaming down my cheeks. Yes, sometimes when I’m really pissed off at myself, I cry. I really prefer to think of it as a purging of internal toxins, not sobbing over my own dumbass choices. Either way, I wipe underneath my nose using the hem of my shirt and flop down on the ground, my back resting uncomfortably against the wall.
“Nancy’s right,” Goldie adds helpfully as I consider hanging up on them. They’d just call back, damnit. “But I think it’s fixable.”
“You think?” I ask, lurching forward in a sudden panic. He’s on the couch to prove he stays… but what if while he’s out there, he comes to his senses and realizes I’m not fucking worth it? That trying to understand my attempts at closure is too exhausting. What if he realizes he’s twenty-freaking-six-years-old and can probably date an actual model? And not like Target clothes models. A real one that prances on a runway in lingerie no one would ever buy in front of a crowd of people who live off coffee and cigarettes.
“Time to listen to your mom, sweetheart, okay?” She launches into her speech before I can agree, but my mom usually gives great assessments of how I’m fucking up, like most moms so lovingly do.
“You wanted a perfect nuclear family so you kicked and screamed the entire time you were dragged away from that concept. And thenyoubecame about Jett having some semblance of normalcy like parents thatbothtake an active role in his life. Ones that get along, too.” She pauses. “Right so far?”
I nod. Goldie says, “she’s nodding. I can sense it.”
“I am.”
“Okay, after you get over that idea because you realize that your mom was right about Dustin all along and he’s a no good lazyshitwho doesn’t want to parent, you have a new hurdle: making peace with the fact that Jett won’t know his birth father.Youhad to decide that was the best choice for him, and that’s hard. Extremely. His entire life scale is in the balance, and it is up to you.”
I swallow hard, the precision of my mother’s words making me feel so understood. “It was. I couldn’t snap and just go to Beau. I had to be sure for both Dustin and Jett, you know?”
“We get it,” Goldie says.
“Rebecca, I understand. But what did you learn in the fight tonight? Because if you didn’t learn what you needed to learn, I don’t know if Beau should take you back.”
“Fuck, Nanc, that’s kinda harsh,” Goldie defends.