“Yes, I know, Mom. Shit, look …” I pause and wait for her to finish tearing me a new asshole.
“I mean honestly, I almost thought you’d developed a split personality. You’re clearly not the same man I raised. Do you think she’ll even let you near that baby girl after everything you’ve done?”
“Wasn’t that the point of you sending me those pictures? To get me to come back?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my cool.
“Well, yes. But they were a last resort. I didn’t think they’d even have any effect on you, not after what you’d already done. Plus, I sent them two weeks ago,” she huffs into my ear.
I stroll over to the coffee machine in my mom’s kitchen, thanking my lucky stars that she’s in England and not giving me the third degree in person. Fuck knows I deserve it, but that doesn’t mean I want it, though. Hearing it over the phone is bad enough.
I flick it on and grab a mug. “Look, I had some shit to figure out before I could just bail. Okay? And I’m back, aren’t I? I know what I did and all that I haven’t done. So save it, yeah? Just …” I blow out a breath and pour the coffee into my mug. “Just give me some time and ease up. Please.”
She’s quiet, which isn’t always good when it comes to my mom. I put the coffee pot back and lean back against the bench. Waiting.
“If you think for one second that you deserve for anyone to go easy on you after abandoning your pregnant girlfriend, you’ve got another thing coming, my boy. Good grief, you’re making my hair turn gray by the second.” She sighs. “I’ll talk to you later.” She then hangs up before I can even say a damn word.
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the screen for a moment before putting it on the counter and taking a sip of my coffee. She’s right about one thing, though; I can’t expect anyone to go easy on me, and I don’t. But fuck, I just need five minutes. Five minutes to sort out this fucked-up plan I had and come up with a new one. Lord knows I need one after coming home to find what I did.
Jesus, she can’t seriously have moved on from what we had.
I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes, trying not to let the rage take hold again. I don’t know what I expected, though, when I left my beautiful, amazing, pregnant girl behind like I did. I guess I wasn’t thinking. Just acting. And by the time it all caught up with me, really sunk its filthy ass teeth into my dipshit brain, it was too late. I’d already been gone for two months. Two months in a new town, a new job, and hell, even new women. A new job that I justified leaving town for because of the money that working as an on-site foreman would provide. Money for a family I wanted no part of and that I acted as though didn’t exist. It was easier that way—until now, at least. I ignored calls, emails, Facebook. Shit, I even stopped replying to Beau’s texts, and we’ve been best friends for years. My life consisted of working, drinking, fucking, and sleeping … basically anything that would help me ignore everything that reminded me of what I left behind and what a huge fucked-up asshole I was.
“Yo!” The shouting followed by banging at the front door jerks me mercilessly from my thoughts. “Open up, dickhead. I know you’re back.”
Speaking of … I walk down the hallway and swing the door open, only to be greeted by a right hook to the cheek.
“Fuck! What the hell?” I hunch over and rub my cheek, the very same one that’s still trying to heal from that asshole’s assault yesterday.
Beau slams the door behind him before laying it on thick. “You had that coming, and you know it, you fucking idiot,” he seethes. “What the fuck were you thinking, leaving her here like that? And with a fucking baby? I mean, are you certifiably insane?”
Righting myself, I turn for the kitchen, nabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and a dish towel before answering him.
“Hello to you too, asshole.” I glare at him before conceding. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just fucking feeling, feeling like I didn’t want a kid, wasn’t ready for it. I was scared shitless, all right? And I … I took it too far.” I take a seat on a kitchen stool as he stands with his arms folded, leaning against the entryway.
I bring the peas up to my cheek. “It was too late, Beau,” I say quietly and duck my head. “I’d been gone for two months before it even started to sink in. Two fucking months.” I shake my head. “I didn’t deserve to come back here, not to them. Not after the shit I’d already done in that two months.” I swallow, trying not to cry like a bitch because of something that’s my god damn fault anyway.
“Shit, Z.” I look up to see Beau scrub his palms down his face.
“What the hell are you going to do?” He looks hesitant for a minute before continuing, “You know, she’s …”
I put up my other hand, not needing to hear it. “I know. Had the pleasure of finding that out yesterday when I went straight to her house.”
“So you know it’s pretty serious between them, right? You can’t just waltz back into town and fuck shit up for them. He’s a good guy; he’s been there for her, through almost everything—especially with Rose.”
My jaw clenches so hard I think I’m gonna crack a tooth. “Don’t,” I snarl. “I don’t wanna hear a damn thing about him.”
“Even if he took care of your baby? The one that you didn’t want. The guy’s practically the only father she has.” He stabs a finger at me. “Don’t fuck that up. That shit’s not fair. Not for her or for him. He stepped up after your balls shriveled up, turning you into a whining bitch who threw the most epic tantrum I’ve ever seen from a grown man. So you’d better deal with that.” His face is resolute; no fucks given about how what he’s saying might affect me. I glare at him then look away. He’s right—I know he is—but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna admit it. No, thanks. I’ve fucked up, but I want back what’s rightfully mine. And I don’t care who I trample on or what I have to do to make that happen.
He repeats his earlier question. “So what are you gonna do? What are you even hoping to accomplish now anyway, after being gone so long?”
Sighing, I place the peas on the counter and stare at them for a beat.
“I want them back, Beau. I came back for them.” I shrug and look over at him. “So whatever I have to.”
He stares at me, his jaw clenching before cursing under his breath. “Dude, seriously?” He laughs sardonically. “You know what? Whatever, man. You’re clearly gonna do shit your own special way again. Even if it fucks everything up for you … again.” He turns and flips me off over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway toward the door. “If you decide to man up, you know where to find me. Later, dick.”
“Whatever,” I scoff at the same time the front door slams closed, the sound taking all my false bravado with it. My shoulders slump as I place my elbows on the counter and bury my head in my hands.