Page 79 of Love Fast

I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. The people of Star Falls don’t care that my father was a drunk who gambled away my family’s farm. They just care about me—because I’m one of their own.

THIRTY-THREE

Rosey

As the Uber pulls into the trailer park, the urge to run is far greater than it ever was when I was stuck here. I know for certain there’s nothing my mom can do to make me stay, but that doesn’t stop the panic rising in my chest. I can’t catch a breath and my palms are slick with sweat—sensations I only realize were familiar now that I’ve been away from this place. I lived my whole life here in a state of anxiety. Now that I know what it feels like to live in Star Falls without those feelings, I can’t fathom how I coped all these years.

The car pulls to a stop and I want to ask the driver to keep the engine running. A conversation with my mom is inevitable, but I’d do anything to avoid it. I just want to dash into the trailer, grab my stuff, and come right back out again.

“You getting out?” the driver asks, pulling me from my panic.

I grab the door handle.

I’ll be back in Colorado in just over twenty-four hours. I checked into my motel on the outskirts of town straight from the airport. Tomorrow morning, I’m meeting Frank to sign paperwork. After that, I can leave and not look back.

There’s a small deck on the front of the trailer, but the single chair Mom likes to sit in to see what’s going on in the park is unoccupied. I glance up at the darkening sky. It’s about to pour with rain. She’ll be inside. Part of me hopes she’s out, though it’s unlikely. She rarely leaves the trailer. I have a niggling feeling that although I don’t want to see her, I need to face her. Maybe because I need her to see that I’ve broken free of her lies and manipulation.

I’d like to see Lydia and Kitty, but I don’t know if they want to see me. The burden of Mom’s demands will be heavier for them since I’ve left. They’ll probably resent me, and I don’t blame them. Still, I want to show them life can be different to how they imagine it’s always going to be. They can break free, just like I have.

I walk up to the deck, knock three times, and open the door. The familiar orange scent of Mom’s favorite air freshener sends me right back to my childhood. I scan the living room and there she is, watching the TV as always.

She knows I’m there—there’s no missing me—but she doesn’t greet me. She doesn’t even turn to look at me.

“It’s you,” she says, emotionless, not taking her eyes from the screen.

“I came to collect some things.” I manage to keep my voice steady.

“And where the hell have you been? Embarrassing the family like you did by running off on your wedding day.”

Embarrassing the family? She means embarrassingher. She doesn’t care about what happened to Frank or what drove me to run out on my wedding. She cares about herself and only herself.

“You don’t need to know where I’ve been,” I say. I know it will rile her that I’m being so rude, but I can’t help myself. In Star Falls, I’ve tried to forget about her, block her out of my thoughts. But there’s no escaping her now. She’s here, and she’s a monster.

The door to the bedroom I used to share with my three sisters opens and Lydia comes out, followed by Kitty and, finally, Marion. My heart lifts in my chest but sinks lower than it was before when I see the fear on their faces. They look so young. So vulnerable. They glance at Mom, unsure whether they’re allowed to speak to me. If they do, there’s no doubt they’ll suffer the consequences.

“It’s so good to see you,” I say, looking at my sisters. I try to keep it together, but I want to bundle them out of here and take them back to Colorado with me. I don’t want them to waste any more years doing what Mom demands of them. It’s more obvious than ever that despite the lack of bars, we lived in a prison. They’re still living in it.

Love surges in my chest for these young women who still have so much living ahead of them. I want to hug them. But doing so might create more difficulties for them when I leave. Mom will punish them. A huge wave of guilt for leaving them all here crashes over me. I should have been looking out for them. I should have been protecting them.

“They don’t want to see you,” Mom barks.

I glance back at my sisters to find their expressions say something very different.

“I haven’t changed my number,” I say. “I’d love to hear from you.”

“They have you blocked,” Mom spits. “We all do. You left this family the moment you ran out on us.”

I try to keep my expression blank, but inside it’s hard to hear what she’s saying. I know how she is, butwhoshe is remains the same: this is my mother. There’s a tiny part of me that hoped she’d see me today and remember she loves me.

I face my sisters. I don’t want to engage with Mom. There’s no point. She’ll twist my words, try to makemethe monster.

“I didn’t run out on you. I just knew I couldn’t marry a man I didn’t love to keep Mom happy.” My voice is calm but small. It feels so grating to be speaking against her like this, in front of her. We’d all complain to each other about her, but we always went along with what she said in the end. We didn’t feel we had any choice. But for the life of me, I don’t understand why I stayed as long as I did when I became an adult. I didn’t have to give her my paycheck. Why didn’t I just keep it and find my own place?

Because she was my mother and I thought it was her job to do what was best for me. I thought it was my job to do what she told me.

I was wrong on both counts.

“I miss you,” I say, looking at all my sisters.

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