Broken and Screwed 2

“Benson wasn’t a good influence on him.”

She nodded, her hand trembling as she lifted the glass again to her mouth. “He gave me the letter at his graduation. I didn’t open it until that night. That was his instructions. He said, ‘Mom, don’t open this until tonight. You’ll know when.’ I got so scared, but then I thought maybe it was a good thing. I think I didn’t want to read what he wrote. I was scared. I failed him as a mother. If I had read it, I could’ve stopped him. If only I had read that damn letter…”

Jesse leaned forward. His arm dropped from mine. “He gave you a suicide letter?”

She couldn’t talk so she only nodded. Her tears were cascading down her face now.

A look of horror came over him.

I frowned. “What is it?”

He looked over, but gave me the slightest of head shakes. He didn’t want to tell me, not then, not in front of my mother. She didn’t even notice. She had crumpled forward over the table. Her shoulders shook as she wept into the table, the sounds muffled from the tablecloth.

My mother was done for the night.

We both knew it and we both had to help her leave the hotel. She was so thin, I wondered if she ever ate anymore. Her legs were wobbly from the wine and she grabbed a hold of me. Mumbling apologies the whole way to the car and to the hotel, she kept repeating the same thing as she clung to me. “I lost my marriage, my son, and my grandchild. I lost them all. I’m so sorry, honey. I lost everything.” Then she repeated the same sentiment over and over. “I lost my marriage, my son, and my grandchild.” When we finally got to the hotel and learned my father had checked out and left, Jesse brought my mother to his house.

Derek and Kara were still awake.

She gasped softly when I helped my mother into the house, but it only took one look between the couple before she nodded to me. “She can stay in Derek’s room. I’ll sneak him into the dorms.”

“Are you sure?”

She reached out and pressed a hand to my arm. She was fighting back her own tears as she squeezed my arm. “I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. Your mom can stay as long as she needs to.”

And then I broke down.

My mother went to Jesse, still mumbling the same phrase, and Kara gave me the tightest hug I had ever received. She pressed me close and her hand cradled the back of my head. Then she rocked me back and forth, as I finally let my own tears fall free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

My mom called a cab for herself the next morning. She was gone by the time I woke. I never heard from her again. I assumed she had gone back to my father, who blocked me from his email, his Facebook, his phone, his everything. I felt dead to him.

Jesse asked how I was every day, but it was the same answer. I was fine. If I were being honest, I’d tell him that I hadn’t processed anything. I didn’t think about my brother killing himself. I couldn’t imagine the letter he gave my mother. I didn’t want to know about the extent of his depression. And I really couldn’t handle knowing that there was a little Ethan in the world somewhere that I couldn’t hug, but I found myself staring off at my brother’s portrait when I’d be at the dining table or in the living room. Both rooms were positioned so I had a clear view of him.

It hurt.

My brother had hurt me. Again.

“Hey, girl.” Hannah shoved her head through the bathroom door. Her voice echoed around the empty bathroom and six stalls behind me. “I’m buying shots tonight.”

I was jerked back from my daydreaming. Thank god. “Uh, sure. No. What?”

“Shots.” Hannah stepped inside as two girls followed behind her. “Lots of them. You’re drinking tonight.” She winked at me and made a clicking sound at the same time before she turned a cold glare to the two behind me.

I didn’t look, but I knew they were there. They were always there. Even though things seemed on track again with Jesse and me, I still hadn’t moved back in at his house. I spent nights, but most of the time I returned to the dorm. Hannah was gone most of the time. Things had continued to heat up between her and her still-unnamed-rockstar-boyfriend. She called him Scarred Baldy so everyone else in the group went with the name.

An image of Ethan flashed in my head again. That damn portrait. I used to love it, now it haunted me. Literally. I hadn’t admitted it to Jesse, but he was part of the reason why I hadn’t moved back in. He was a reminder of Ethan and a reminder of what my brother had done. Maybe it shouldn’t have changed things for me, but it did. Along with the renewed mourning and pain, resentment was stirring inside of me too.

No.

I took a deep breath and stopped myself. Again.

I couldn’t deal. I wasn’t ready to so I jerked my gaze up from the sink and found myself staring into two snooty girls from my floor. Kate and Amanda? I think those were their names. Hannah had backed up so she was beside me, resting against a sink, as she was in a stare-off against the two. When her hand rose to her hip and her chin lifted, I knew sparks were going to fly. Then she started, “You got a staring problem, honey?”

One girl sighed in disgust and flounced into a bathroom stall. Her friend wasn’t as smart. She narrowed her gaze and pointed to me. “Just looking at Jesse Hunt’s reject. That’s all.”

Oh, snap.

I wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Hannah or me. They weren’t scared of her anymore.

“Let’s go. I’m ready.” I grabbed my stuff and tugged on her arm.