Page 92 of Faking It with the Firefighter

“Mom!” Donny whined. “It’s my wedding that ended in disaster. Haven’t I been through enough?”

From my spot in the back seat, I rolled my eyes and stared out the window. I was tired and sweaty, and I felt like death. There was an itchy feeling under my skin, like I wouldn’t be able to fix what had been broken.

“You couldn’t just marry her on Saturday like you were supposed to?” Mom snapped. “People aretalking.”

“Is that all you care about?” I asked. “People talk, Mom. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Oh, easy for you to say! You, who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“For the last time,shecame on tome!”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Donny sulked. “Let’s just go, Mom.”

“Not until you two hear what I have to say,” Mom replied. She spun around so she could look at both of us. “You have made a fool of me in front of the whole town, and I?—”

“So this is about you now?” I cut in. Anger gurgled through me, growing by the second. “Donny’s fiancée tries to cheat on him, his wedding falls apart, his football career is essentially over, I break up with the only woman I’ve ever really cared about, my best friend hates me…but you care about people whispering behind their hands when they see you at the grocery store?”

“You watch your mouth, Rex.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought I could count on you. I thought you, of all people, would be responsible?—”

“No.” I unclipped my seatbelt. “No. I’m not listening to this.”

“Rex William Montgomery?—”

“Mom, stop.” Suddenly, I was exhausted. The weight of expectations crashed against my shoulders. She was expecting me to fix everyone else’s mistakes…for what? “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be responsible. I’ve built my career, my reputation, on being the guy that people can rely on. And for what? For it to be thrown in my face? Why the hell should I bend over backward when no one even considers doing it for me? When was the last time you actually took care of me, Mom?”

“Iam yourmother?—”

“You care more about looking like my mother for everyone else’s benefit than actually being there for me. That’s why you stayed married to Dad when his anger made it impossible for us to have friends over. When we had to hide in our rooms when he would rage. When he’d sulk for days.”

“Your father did those things tome,” she replied, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah, and you should have protectedus,” I spat. “After all, you’re our mother.”

Tears filled my mom’s eyes, and I felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. Ever since I was old enough to remember, I’d wanted to protect her. I’d built my life on being the kind of son she wanted. The kind of man that my father could never be.

And in the end, I was just like him. I hurt Abigail when I should have stood up for her. Beside her. I lashed out at my mom when it became too much.

I wasn’t a stand-up guy. I wasn’t the glue that held the family together. I was just another fraud who only existed to keep up appearances.

“I’ll walk,” I said, and got out of the car. My mother called out my name and Donny yelled after me, but I didn’t look back. After a few moments, I heard the car start up and drive away.

I still wore my tuxedo pants and shirt, although my bowtie had been lost at some point in the tussle and my jacket was still upstairs at the winery. Sweat stained the underarms of my white shirt yellow, and my pants were dusty and marked with dirt from jail.

A shower was what I needed, but my feet took me to Abigail’s. I had to talk to her. I had to set things straight. Ibanged on the door, calling her name. But she didn’t answer. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I called her once, twice, three times. No answer. Winston poked his head out from behind the curtain, and I was actually happy to see the little guy.

I went to the window and tapped the glass. “Hey, Winston. It’s me. Can you get your mom to answer the door?”

Winston stared into my eyes, then hissed at me so fiercely that I jumped back. Then he ran off. Shit. I knocked on the door again. But when she still didn’t answer my calls or the door, I knew she wasn’t coming.

Dejected, I walked home. My feet ached in my shiny dress shoes, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. I stripped off my filthy clothes, got in the shower, and tried to wash off the memory of the weekend, my night in jail, and the shame of how badly I’d treated Abigail.

The dirt came off, but the guilt didn’t.

I ordered food and sat on the couch. My phone stayed silent. No invitation from Gabe to hang out. No text from Donny. No word from Mom.

It figured, didn’t it? As soon as I stopped being useful to them all, they dropped me. All I ever was to them was someone to do their dirty work. Need a hand moving? Call Rex. Need a quick loan? Rex is your man. Need some chump who will shovel shit for you and do it with a smile on his face? Rex all the way.

I’d been used by everyone. Everyone except for Abigail. And now she was gone.

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