Page 80 of Your Pucking Mom

God, Ledger. He gave me something I could never put into words, replacing a painful experience I had at seventeen with safety and warmth. He was everything I needed—fucking perfect. He’d helped me reclaim my power, but my mother’s words kept echoing in my mind: I was always ruining something.

I couldn’t allow myself to destroy an entire team, and seeing my eighteen year old son sitting on the couch with popcorn reminded me of all the reasons I couldn’t let myself go there. That was why I avoided going into the tunnels after our last home game and tried to schedule my shifts at the coffee shop during practice or at odd hours.

“Mom?” Austin’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“I said, shouldn’t you get going?” I looked over at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen and realized I was already late.

“Shit. Yes.” I ran over to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you so much, Mom.” His words caught me off guard. I managed a tight-lipped smile, holding back tears.

“I know, sweetheart. Thank you,” I whispered, wrapping my hands around his neck.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice for me anymore, Mom. I want you to be happy.”

I had to hold back tears. “I am happy.”

He let out a small laugh, aware that I wasn’t being completely truthful. I wasn’t miserable, but I wasn’t truly happy, either. Watching Austin chase his dreams was everything I had hoped for. This was a choice I made, but I also knew what I was sacrificing by being here. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving his apartment, reminding him to lock the door behind me.

As I got into the hallway, I pressed my back against the wall, pausing to think. I was such a negative person all the time, even in my own head, that I somehow had convinced myself I was unlovable and untouchable. For eighteen years, the thought of a man touching me terrified me, but instead of thinking of the negative all the time, I needed to realize what Ledger had given me. Instead of being sad and contemplating what could have been, I needed to realize what was.

I conquered my fear of touch, especially men’s touch. He gave that to me.

I shook my head. “No,” I said to the quiet hallway. I gave that to myself, but Ledger provided the space for me to explore it.

I walked down the hallway toward the elevator, hitting the up button as I went. Ledger had shown me something crucial: people could genuinely care for me with no hidden expectations. Love and affection didn’t always come with strings attached. My mother’s love, on the other hand, always seemed conditional, but Ledger’s…it was different.

“Wait,” I murmured to the elevator. Had I just compared my mother’s love to Ledger’s…love?

Once again, I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought. Ledger didn’t love me; it was a fleeting moment. It was absurd to think otherwise. The elevator chimed, signaling my arrival at the Popovs’ floor. I continued down the hallway, then knocked on their door.

“Hey, Auburn,” Stassi said as she answered the door. She had her long blonde hair in a braid and was wearing jeans and a white button-up shirt tucked into her pants. Her piercing blue eyes, similar to mine, were warm.

I looked down at my outfit, realizing I was overdressed, about to apologize for the floral maxi skirt and blouse as she spoke, “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” I swallowed. “Thank you for having me here.”

“Please, come in,” she said, gesturing for me to enter, and I stepped into her apartment.

I was familiar with the layout, since Ledger’s and Austin’s apartments all had a similar look. The Popov’s were on the floor below Ledger’s, but their corner view of the lake was just as stunning. The place was modern, but unlike the others, it felt like a real home, filled with kids’ toys, bookshelves lined with children’s books, and a large sofa wrapping around the spacious living area.

“Sorry, it’s a mess. Damien’s upstairs, but I’m sure he’ll be around.”

“No, please. This is such a warm home.”

“Come sit. Do you like red or white?” she asked and gestured to the oversized island they had done in a white tile. I pulled out a wooden stool and leaned on the counter as she grabbed two glasses.

“White please,” I said. “And thank you for inviting me. It has been a long time since I’ve had drinks with a…friend.”

“Mommy,” a little boy shouted from the top of the stairs. “Your friend has to eat spaghetti with us. I have to show her my toys.”

Her warm smile reminded me of Emma’s.

“You don’t have to stay.” She laughed.

I gave her a warm smile back. “No. I’d love to.”

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