Page 117 of Your Pucking Mom

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“You knocked?” Austin asked as he opened the door. “You know you have a key, right?”

He looked relaxed in black sweats and a matching hoodie, his blond hair still damp. As I stood in the hallway, a wave of sadness washed over me. I wasn’t here to seehim, just to visit Austin, but I couldn’t help wishing I could seehim.

“I know, but with everything, I felt awkward just opening it up.”

He sighed, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, then went in for a huge hug. “Mom, I’m sorry I said those things about you. I was just angry in the moment.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, baby.” I swallowed, holding back my tears. “I messed up.”

Austin linked his hand through mine and guided me over to the couch, where he grabbed me a cup of coffee.

“You made this?” I asked hesitantly, putting it to my lips and inhaling to make sure it was drinkable.

“Yeah, kind of had to learn if I wanted to survive with caffeine.”

I gave a soft smile as he plopped on the couch next to me. “You’re all grown up.”

He nodded as he bit back a grin. “I guess that’s why we’re here, right? I’m grown up and didn’t act like it. I feel childish. I acted stupidly by screaming at you and bringing Grandma.”

I shook my head. “I should’ve told you. I have always told you the truth?—”

“But have you, Mom?”

I took a sip of the warm liquid while I thought about what he was asking. This was a time for truth, and I had to accept that my son was old enough to let him know. “No,” I confessed.

“Tell me now, then.”

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the pain that would go along with the memories. “Your father—sperm donor—he wasn’t the man I thought he was, Austin. It was one night, and he was so popular at school that I thought I was safe with him, but then he took me—his true colors showed me who he was that night.”

Austin had a tear running down his cheek. “Mom. I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

“I never hid him from you intentionally. I can kind of picture him, but it’s like my trauma erased his name and details. After he told me that he wanted nothing to do with you or me, I pushed him out of my life.

“I could have done better as a mom. I should’ve found him later in life so you guys could have maybe reconciled.” I recounted the memories of us together when I had to play the role of two parents for him. I imagined what it would’ve been like if I knocked on JXX’s door all those years past, if he would have bothered opening it.

“I’ll never forget when we had that dad day in elementary school and they almost didn’t let me come, but you went to the school, determined to show up for me and not miss out on anything. You were more than enough for me, Mom.”

There was a long pause.

“Was it one time that he did that?”

I nodded. “It was one night, and I blamed myself. I thought it was something that I wore or that I did.”

Austin’s expression shifted, a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I wanted to protect you, Austin. I didn’t want you to grow up with the burden of knowing your father was a monster,” I explained, tears welling up. “Your grandmother blamed me for most of it too. It was like wearing a scarlet letter, and she constantly told me it was my fault for what happened.”

He reached out, taking my hand in his. “I wish you had told me sooner, Mom. I hate that you had to go through that alone.”

The weight of his words added to the ache in my heart. “I didn’t want you to see me as weak, Austin. I wanted to be strong for you. You were a kid, and God, when they first brought you out in the hospital room, I knew you were mine. You were so beautiful, and being your mom is the biggest honor I’ll ever have.”

“You’re so strong, Mom—the strongest person I know,” he said softly, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “You’ll always be the best mom I have ever met in my entire life. I think it’s time, though, that you find someone who can be strong for you.”

As I looked into his eyes, I saw a reflection of the resilience I had instilled in him. While the scars would always remain, they served as a reminder of the bond that held us together through the darkest of times.

“What about Grandma?”

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