Page 52 of Rejected Broken Mate

He scowled. "Maybe I am talking to you, and you just can't hear me." He gave me a look, meaning to hurt me.

It was a stab, and it hurt. I crossed my arms. "I can talk through my head, too, you know."

Michael made a face. "You can't hear me though."

"And you won't hear me," I said. "Which is why we speak. If you are angry, you tell me. You do not get to run off. We speak to each other."

Michael looked away, falling silent for a moment. He then swung a little. "He's not my dad."

I frowned. I had thought the moment was right. I didn't realize that Michael would be angry. All he'd ever seemed to want lately was a father. I figured he would be excited to know who Miles really was.

"I should have worded it differently," I explained. "I guess I picked a bad time to tell you."

"He's not my father, he's not my papa, and he isn't my dad." Michael quickly counters. "He's no one."

I rubbed my hands together. "Michael, he is, though. He is your dad."

"He's not," Michael snapped. "Quit saying he is! He isn't. Dads don't leave their kids behind."

I swallowed, softening my words. "Michael, he didn't leave you behind."

"He did." Michael snapped. "It's always just been us. He was never around. Not in a single picture. I know what dads do. I know they are supposed to be around." Michael shook his head. "If he wanted to be around, he would have been."

I was backed into a corner, and I knew that no matter what I said, it wouldn't help the situation. "Sometimes…. it's not that simple."

Michael glared. "Then explain it, mom. Why wasn't he around?"

I thought about when Michael was born. I remember that fear that I was never going to be good enough, that maybe I should have told Miles.

"I never told him about you," I admit.

Michael's face shifted, and he looked shocked. But he shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"Michael, I wouldn't lie."

"Maybe you would," he said, his fingers tightening around the chain of the swing. "You never told me I was a shifter until a while ago. You said we would be moving here and that you knew no one here, yet you knew him. Maybe you do lie."

"Michael, I would not lie to you, " I said, hardening my words. I didn't know he was even here. And I didn't learn about your shifter side until a little before I told you, and the only reason I didn't tell you right away was because I didn't know how."

Michael pulled himself up. "I want to go home."

My shoulders sank, and I sighed. "We can go home and…"

"No," he shook his head. "I want to go back to Nevada. Things were simple."

I didn't know what to say. Michael pulled himself off the swing. "I don't want to be here anymore." He turned and walked towards where the car was parked.

The drive home was quiet, and I tried to think of what to say and how to calm the mess, but nothing came to mind. I looked at Michael in the rearview mirror, and he was looking outside the window. He refused to even look at me.

"I should have told you soon," I said softly.

He looked up at me for a moment before he looked away again. He crossed his arms, his lips forming a line.

I wet my lips. "And I'm sorry. If I had spoken about him, you wouldn't feel this. You wouldn't think he abandoned us."

"I feel this because he did," Michael snapped back, his eyes darkening. "Nothing you say is going to change that."

I looked back at the street. "Michael, I want you to have a dad."

---