The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(95)

I look up to where she stands, arms crossed.

“Come on, Mom. I’m exhausted.”

“It’s been weeks. Don’t you think it’s time?”

I sigh, bracing myself. Mom isn’t the type to make the hard parts easier. She’s the type to deal with shit as it comes, and it’s one of the things I’ve always respected her for most, while it still remains one of my biggest weaknesses. I much prefer to think my way around my issues.

And right now, I’m in the midst of full-blown avoidance.

Case in point, after I pick Dante up, Clarissa meets Mom at the door when she comes for him. As immature as it is, I don’t want to see her, which has done shit to ease the sting of missing her.

A part of me is embarrassed for being so vulnerable in front of her, the other is glad I finally stood up for my mangled fucking heart where she is concerned.

Though, no part of this is making my decision and new reality any less shitty. Dante remains confused as to why we aren’t speaking. In hindsight, I realize now why Clarissa was so hesitant to start a relationship. It’s because of our current predicament. Constant excuses as to why things have so drastically changed.

Lately, he’s been reading into every conversation we have, looking for clues, asking questions that I don’t have answers to. At one point, he had some semblance of a family, and with our rift, we’ve ripped it away.

The fucked-up part is with the damage done, the damage she so painstakingly tried to avoid, we never got a real shot at making us work. I could blame it on her selfishness. I could blame myself because I’d shot her down even when she was ready to admit her mistake and begged me not to let go.

The irony is, though I’ve tried in every way imaginable, I haven’t. I just refuse to admit it. I love her wholly and completely. Even with all the hurt we’ve caused to the other. But I can’t, for the life of me, find the strength to go another round with her. Not now, maybe not ever. Because of the power she holds over me, the carelessness she’s used with my heart, I fear I may never come back the same man.

“I’ll go back soon. When I’m ready.”

“You have to face her, son. Dante is not okay. Yesterday, he asked me if I knew why everybody was so sad. I lied to my grandson. Don’t put me in that position again.”

Suddenly, the eggs aren’t so appetizing and feel like rubber in my mouth.

“Fuck,” I push the plate away and run a hand through my hair. “Sorry, Mom. And I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this. I’m signing soon. I’ll get a place as soon as I get a check.”

“Hey, that’s not it,” she says, taking a seat next to me. “First of all, Luis is happy about having you here. And we have plenty of room.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my son. There’s no such thing.”

I glance over as she pours me more juice. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And I hate that she broke your heart. But you have to talk to her. You’ve got to push your feelings aside. Dante is scared.”

“I will. Soon. I just need a little more time.”

“Okay.” She shovels more eggs onto my plate.

“Mom, I’m done.”

“The hell you are. Eat.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She looks me over carefully, weighing her words. Her hair is already up, her makeup done. The woman has self-respect in abundance, has always taken care of herself, no matter the circumstances. It’s another habit of hers I find admirable. She’s the definition of a backbone. I feel like hell. I haven’t been sleeping at all, even after upping my workouts to try and pass out.

“You look beautiful.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re making the right decision?”

I nod. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t have my back and won’t trust me to have hers.”

“Then I pray she does the work because you two were beautiful together. Your family is beautiful. And even if your relationship isn’t where you want it, make no mistake, son, that is your family.”

I swallow the truth of it. “I know.”

“Good. Glad you know it all. So, when are you going over there?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Mom,” I say exasperated, pushing my plate away. “Enough.”

“Just remember when you were working your ass off to get drafted, she was working her ass off to keep your son warm. So, stop punishing her for keeping the secrets she kept out of love, for you, so you could do what you needed to do.”

“Doesn’t change the fact we don’t trust each other.”

“I think you know that’s not true.”

“I’ve done everything I can to prove myself to her, and it’s not good enough.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What?” I gape at her. “You’re kidding me, right? Mom—”

“You keep convincing yourself that everything is so cut and dried. If you want a real family, it comes with the good and bad—cuts, bruises, and bumps, and there is no end date for that. You two will fight and often. You’re so much alike it’s scary. Pig-headed, stubborn…”