Page 27 of Sexting the Don

I pull on my shorts and panties, hurrying over to the window. To my horror, Jimmy's old beater of a car—a rusted-out blue sedan with mismatched doors and a dented fender—is parked in the driveway. I freeze for a moment, realizing he’s probably been out all night drinking again.

The sounds of yelling soon drift up from the house, but I can't make out the words. I take a deep breath, quickly composing myself before hurrying down the staircase outside my apartment and into the house. The yelling gets louder as I approach the living room. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and oppressive. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger and dread welling up inside me.

I hurry into the living room just as the front door slams shut. Through the window, I watch Jimmy, clearly pissed, get into his beat-up car and peel off.

Mom is sitting on the couch, looking worn out. I sit down next to her, my concern masked by bravado.

“What did he want this time, Mom?” I ask, my voice steady but with an edge.

She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Oh, sweetie, he came to yell at me, demanding to know if I was hiding any more money from him.”

I frown, the worry creeping in. “He’s getting desperate, Mom. I’m scared he’s on the verge of crossing the line. What if he hits you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes weary but resolute. “He’s never laid a hand on me. He’s just lost.”

“Lost?” I scoff, unable to hold back my frustration. “He’s a menace, Mom. We don’t need him. We could get an apartment and be fine without him.” I’m thinking about the money Enzo gave me, though I don’t mention it.

She looks at me, her expression softening. “We’ve been through this. I can’t leave him. For some godforsaken reason, I still love him. And you know I’m a Catholic. Divorce is out of the question.”

I roll my eyes, feeling the familiar irritation rising. “Mom, nothing he does is going to change. And nothing I say will convince you to leave him, will it?”

She gives me a sad smile, then nods. “I took vows, Mandy. For better or worse. And this is just the worse part.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “I’m beyond tired of this. Tired of seeing you suffer because of him.”

She reaches out, patting my hand. “I know, honey. But this is my choice. I can handle your father. You focus on your life. Your future.”

I stand up, pacing the room. “And what about your future, Mom? You’re wasting it on a man who doesn’t deserve you.”

She looks down, the lines on her face deepening. “It’s not that simple.”

I stop, turning to face her. “Itisthat simple. You deserve better. We both do.”

She stands up, pulling me into a hug. “I appreciate you looking out for me, sweetheart. But I’ve made my bed, and I have to lie in it.”

I pull back, looking her in the eyes. “You don’t have to. There’s always a choice.”

She shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “This is my choice, Mandy.”

I feel a lump in my throat, the frustration and sadness warring for dominance. “I hate seeing you like this, Mom.”

“I know, honey. But you can’t save me. You can only save yourself.”

I nod, knowing she’s right but hating it all the same. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. And if he ever crosses the line, you’ll tell me. We’ll figure something out.”

She offers a weak smile, wiping away her tears. “I promise.”

Something occurs to me.

“Wait right here,” I tell her, hurrying back to my apartment. I rummage through my things and grab the rest of the money Enzo gave me. I quickly count it out, realizing it's more than enough to cover the next couple of months of the mortgage, along with household expenses.

Cash in hand, I rush back to the living room. “Here, Mom,” I say, thrusting the money into her hands. “Take this to the bank. Cover the mortgage and whatever else we need before Jimmy comes back.”

Mom’s eyes widen as she regards the money, totally confused. “Mandy, where are you getting all this money from? This is a lot of cash.”

I wave off her questions. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just trust me. This will buy us some time, keep Jimmy off our backs,and maybe even give us a bit of breathing room.”

She looks at me, her brow furrowing in concern. “But we can’t just take this money without knowing where it came from. Did you get into some kind of trouble?”

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