Page 111 of Your Pucking Mom

“It doesn’t feel good to me right now. Nothing feels right. I need you to leave. I need you to leave and not come back.”

“I can fix this. I can leave the team?—”

I burst into a maniacal laugh. “Fix this?” I shouted. “There’s no fixing anything. We’re done, Ledger. We never should’ve started.”

I turned around and could feel him behind me. He grabbed my shoulder, but I whipped around to face him and stepped away. “Don’t say another word. This was a horrible fucking idea. I’m done.”

“No, Auburn. There isn’t… There has to be…I-I.” I pressed against his chest, trying to push him backward so he’d leave the apartment. I was tired of how he took up the space.

“Leave.” I was shouting at him as the tears flowed freely down my cheeks. “Please. Don’t make me beg.”

“We—”

“There is no we. Leave.” I pushed harder and knew he was letting me as he took a few steps backward away from me.

“Let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help anymore. You’ve done enough.” As I reached for the door, my hand trembled over the knob. Our eyes met briefly, then I seized the handle and slammed the door shut in his face, cutting him off.

As I turned back into the silence of my apartment, a profound emptiness settled in my chest. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the tension a palpable presence in the room. Collapsing to the floor, I pressed my back against the cold wood of the door, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees. My still-disheveled sweatshirt served as a cruel reminder of his sudden departure.

Though he was gone, his essence lingered, haunting every corner of the room. Each piece of furniture seemed to bear the weight of his touch, his presence in the air I breathed. Tears streamed down my cheeks unabated, leaving trails of sorrow in their wake. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me, a burden of regret and self-loathing.

I curled into a ball, falling onto the floor, letting the tears pool beside me, consumed by a sense of desolation. I had shattered everything, just as my mother had told me I would all those years ago. “Worthless,” I whispered, my voice lost in the stillness of the room. With heavy eyes, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, allowing sleep to claim me, if only to escape the crushing weight of my own failures.

59

ledger

Damien’s voice roused me from a fitful sleep, signaling it was time for school. Two nights ago, I found myself at Alex’s place, where a bottle of whiskey was opened and I lost track of time amid its amber depths. Yesterday blurred into a haze spent nursing hangovers in their apartment, only interrupted by Stassi’s insistence on dinner. Last night mirrored the one before, with more alcohol-fueled oblivion stretching into the early hours. As I awoke, the weight of alcohol and bitterness pressed heavily upon my throbbing head.

“Leave him alone, Damien. He’s nursing another hangover,” Stassi shouted from the kitchen. I groaned and got up slowly from the couch.

“Sorry I crashed here the last two nights. I promise I’ll go back to my own place.”

Stassi poured coffee into two mugs, then walked over toward me, handing me one.

“You know it’s no problem. I’m worried about you.” She looked up toward her room. “We both are.”

She was talking about Alex, who clearly couldn’t handle liquor as well as I could. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I muttered, though the truth was far from it.

“She’s upset. She’ll come around,” she assured me, but I couldn’t find solace in her words.

“You didn’t see her face,” I whispered, the memory of her expression burning in my mind. I could still feel the sting of her rejection, the icy barrier she’d erected between us. I could see the pain etched across her features, her heart breaking in real time.

I’d never forget the overwhelming urge to pull her close, to tell her I wasn’t going anywhere. But I made her a promise. I told her that if she ever needed space, I’d respect it. Even if it tore me apart inside, I had to honor that promise. She wanted distance, and as much as it pained me, I had to give it to her.

“I need to figure out how to make it right between her and Austin.” Stassi sat next to me as I finally was able to sit fully up on the couch. My voice got low as I turned to her and whispered, “Her mother was there. She called Auburn a whore.”

Stassi’s smile dropped, and she looked down at her coffee as if remembering something of her own. “No child should ever hear those words come from their parent, even if they’re an adult.”

I nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how to fix this, Stass.”

She offered a gentle pat on my thigh. “Sometimes, Ledger, things don’t need an immediate fix,” she said softly. “Sometimes it’s about creating room to communicate—to talk it out. Not everything has to be strategized like a hockey game.”

“It’s hard for me to see it like that. This is all I’ve ever known.”

“I know. Alex and I found our way back to each other with time, sometimes that’s all it takes.” She shrugged, then walked off to help Damien get ready for school.

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