Page 47 of Lost in Life

“Sweetheart!”

I hear a distant voice cry out, but can’t stop my hysterics. The dam has broken and there’s not enough sealant in the world to patch it closed again.

Arms wrap around my trembling body, hoisting me up on shaky legs. At their touch, the cries lessen until only soft sniffles sound as we make our way inside my childhood home.

Why did I come here?

The thought crosses my mind again as I listen to my mom babble on about the most pointless shit. Something about a church fundraiser that’s being held down at city hall. “It’s for a good cause.” She continues.

I roll my eyes, the impact organized religion has had on my life has been less than ideal.

When Mona needed assistance she was turned away by every organization, including those who boasted their ultimate goal as serving the masses and helping the weak or some bullshit like that. I stopped listening a long time ago. The last time I set foot inside of a church was the day of her funeral. The day West…

Clearing my throat, I rub the back of my neck and push the thoughts aside. “Mamma.” I interject, cutting her off before she can go on another tangent.

Turning her attention to me, her eyes sadden as she notices the pain in my expression. “Oh honey.” She murmurs, pushing up from her loveseat and coming to sit beside me on the couch.

I lean into her, resting my head on her chest as she wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She soothes, running her hands up and down my back. “He’s in a better place now.” She means it as a comfort but it feels like a slap to the face.

Stiffening, I pull out of her embrace, my jaw clenched. Noticing my discomfort, my mother does what she does best. She makes the moment all about her.

“Don’t you dare start, Catherine.” She snaps, the small glimpse of motherly affection already a distant memory. “You know if you got more involved in the church maybe you wouldn’t be so…confused.” Arching an eyebrow at me, she crosses her arms, leveling me with a look that makes it all too clear what her meaning is.

My shattered heart hardens, all the broken pieces becoming deadly as a blinding fury fills me. “Really? You can’t just be my mom for five fucking seconds?”

“Language, young lady.” She admonishes, only adding fuel to the fire.

Leaping to my feet, I tower over her as I growl, “That’s it. I tried. I tried so fucking hard.” Straightening, I run a hand down my face, trying desperately to get my emotions under control. Only no amount of deep breathing can calm me down, not this time.

“Fuck.” I groan.

Turning around, I kick the coffee table, my foot stinging from the impact. My shoulders slump as I go to leave, vowing to never return.

Just as I’m about to the door, my mother’s haughty voice reaches my ears. “You’re just like your father.” She sneers.

I freeze, my heart thundering in my chest. Spinning slowly to face her, I enunciate each word carefully as I ask, “Did you just saymy father?”

Jutting her chin out, she crosses her arms and legs, leaning back into the sofa.

“Mamma.” I whisper, taking a step toward her. “You know who my father is?”

She keeps her livid gaze on me as she continues to ignore my questions. Getting the reaction she was hoping from me.

It’s a lie. She’s just trying to play me.

I shake my head, muttering “pathetic” under my breath as I turn to resume my exit once more.

“Yes.” She finally calls out. My hand freezes on the doorknob, fingers tightening around the smooth surface. “I know who your father is, always have.”

A sickening feeling swirls in my stomach at her casual admittance to lying for years. For my entire life.

“Who?” My voice is barely more than a whisper but loud enough for her to hear me.

“Owen, his name is Owen.”

Chapter 25

Zayn

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