Page 11 of Loving Taylor
"Do you need anything?" I asked before thinking it through.
Usually I kept our conversations short without any avenue to deviate into a deeper, more meaningful talk that I tried to avoid at all costs.
The silence only increased the foreboding that she was going to take the chance to ask for more than I could give her.
"No, I'm fine," she replied, letting me off the hook.
I suppressed a deep sigh.
"I have to go." The sooner I got this conversation done with the better.
"Okay...I love you."
Closing my eyes briefly, I rode the wave of unwanted emotion her words created in me. For her it was easy to say those words but I hadn't felt loved. I couldn't say words without meaning them and I wondered if I ever would be able to say those same words back to her.
"Bye, Sin."
"Bye."
I disconnected the call and sat down on my bed. For a few moments I stared at my phone, trying to get rid of the feelings I was experiencing. The urge to throw my phone against the wall and watch it shatter was difficult to fight.
I didn't know if we would ever get to a place where I wouldn't still feel anger at her. Alcohol had made her a completely different person. While she had been swinging the bottle and stumbling around in a drunken state, she hadn't cared about anything other than where her next drink was coming from.
The story of a young girl falling for a mysterious rich man only to be left pregnant and alone wasn't new. The strength and character of the girl would shape how she handled it. My mother had spiraled downward and she had never recovered from the rejection. I had been a constant reminder of that.
None of it had been my choice but I had paid the highest price.
The only thing I could thank her for was the fact that she hadn't brought other men into my life. She had been too deeply scarred by my father to allow another in.
Letting out a deep emotional breath, I tried to clear my thoughts. I didn't like to think about the man who was my biological father. He hadn't wanted me and even now it still hurt as much as it had growing up.
Raking my hand through my hair again, I felt my agitation grow.
The young boy who had been forced to toughen up because there had been no adult around to care still lived inside of me. It had been a couple of years since my mother had stopped drinking. Not enough time had passed to even consider forgiveness. But I wasn't sure it was something I would ever be able to do.
My assignment was still open and only half finished but I couldn't concentrate. I got up and went downstairs, needing time before I could tackle the rest of the work.
Slater was playing Xbox. When I slumped into the chair beside the sofa, he stopped his game.
"You wanna play?" he asked.
I shook my head. My mind was still tied up in the phone call.
"I spoke to my mom," I revealed.
Slater put the game controller down on the table. "How's she doing?"
I shrugged. "Same."
He studied me but didn't say anything. He knew me well. There was no need to push me, I would talk when I was ready.
"It's like she’s waiting for me to forgive her." My eyes leveled to his. "And I don't know if I can."
If there was anyone in the world who understood, it was Slater.
"You don't have to," he reminded me. It was still my choice.
Would I have regrets if she died and I never got a chance to tell her that despite a crappy childhood and lack of love I forgave her? I didn't want to have to live with more guilt.
