Page 79 of Broken Bonds

I scoffed. “You had two years to call,” I bitterly reminded her. “If there’s nothing important you need to tell me, I have to go. I have class.” Sitting on the bench outside, I bounced my leg, anxiety and tension running through my body.

“How’s college going, dear?” she asked. Why was she acting like this phone call was normal? It wasn’t. And now, she’d fucked my entire world up. She should’ve just left me be.

“Fine.”

“Dating anyone?” Her voice sounded hopeful, almost like she cared.

I sighed. “No,” I lied. I would not tell her about Celine. She didn’t deserve to know. “Look, I have to go.”

“Ace, wait—there is a reason for this call.” Because of course, there was. She would never call me just to chat and catch up. I knew it’d been a lie.

“Well, I don’t have all day,” I snapped impatiently.

“When did you become so rude, Ace Danvers?” I winced at her stern tone. I had never been disrespectful toward her before, but my patience had run out with my family who abandoned me when I needed support. None of them had been there.

“When you abandoned me,” I bit. “Now, tell me the reason for this call.”

“I didn’t?—”

Cutting her off, I continued, “I don’t have time for this anymore. I’ve moved on. I’m healing, and I can’t deal with you anymore.”

She sighed. “Your mother is being released next week, and she wants to see you.”

Fuck.

I hadn’t been expecting that.

Old emotions bubbled to the surface as I thought of my mom. All the hope. The pain. The fear. The fucking abandonment.

“I’m not coming back,” I bitterly told Mema. “I have a life here now. I have friends, an apartment, a job.” I was stammering to come up with a good enough excuse to not go back. Because I knew if she pushed enough, I would. I was, after all, still an unhealed man who just wanted his mom to give a damn.

“Her therapist is recommending it to help her with recovery. It will help you both.”

I scoffed. “She let him abuse me, then she left me. I don’t care if she recovers or not.” I winced when I saw Ryan walking in my direction. Why wasn’t he in class?

“She’s changing, Ace,” Mema pleaded. “She wants to fix things.” My grandmother tried to find a good enough reason, but there was never going to be anything good enough. It was not my job to fix things with my mom. I was the child; she was the mother. It washerresponsibility. I didn’t want this on my shoulders. Wasn’t I burdened enough?

“Why didn’t she call herself if she wants to see me?”

Mema was quiet for a moment. I tightened my hand around the phone. “She didn’t think you would answer.”

Ryan took a seat beside me, concern furrowing his brow.

“I’m not coming back there. Don’t call me ever again.” Pulling the hot phone from my cheek, I clenched my hand around it, jabbing my thumb onto the screen to end the call. Staring at my bouncing leg, I struggled to come to terms with the conversation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryan finally asked. The harsh sunlight glared down on us as Ryan’s voice reached my ears.

I clenched my jaw, clenching and unclenching my free hand. “My mother is being released and wants to see me,” I finally told him. Mema had put her into the psychiatric hospital not long after we moved there, and Mom had never asked to see me. Every attempt I’d made before moving to Florida to make things right had gone unanswered or she’d downright just said no.

“And you aren’t going?” Ryan asked, bewildered.

I shook my head. “No fucking chance.”

“Why?” I looked at him then, at the confusion glimmering in his eyes. I had never gone into detail about my past with him,only telling him what he needed to know. Celine knew more than anyone.

I looked back at the ground. “She let my stepfather abuse me after Jack drowned.”

Ryan was quiet for a good minute before he mumbled, “Ace, man, I don’t know what to say.” His hands slid through his hair.

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