Page 22 of There's No Us Without You
“Funny.” I shove him in the back. “Cook your own fucking dinner, then.”
Eden snorts, the sound like that of a little pig. Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as she covers her mouth with a hand.
It does nothing to ease my physical attraction to her, instead sucking me right back in.You Are My Sunshine...that’s the song my mum used to sing.
Emerson joins in the laughter, his dark curls bouncing around on the top of his head.
“I’m glad I entertain you. I’ll catch you both later.” I storm towards the stairs, leaving Emerson and Eden to their amusement at my expense.
Emerson calls out after me, but I ignore him.
This is going to be the hardest fucking time of my life.
SIX
Eden
My phone dingsin the darkness, alerting me to a text message. Groaning, I peel my eyes open to find it is, in fact, no longer dark, the light now filtering in through the cracks in the shutters covering the bedroom window.
It takes me a moment to realise where I am, the crisp white walls and furniture a stark contrast to the dark blues and greys in Kent’s house.
Are Emerson’s and Will’s rooms the same colours as mine? I doubt it. My guess is Will’s room is dark and moody, just like him. Emerson is a mixed bag, so his could be painted pink for all I know.
When he gave me the grand tour yesterday, all I could think about was how my life had gone to shit. There was also the fact he was quite distracting without a shirt on, and I honestly couldn’t tell you if he actually did show me his room. It’s all a bit of a blur.
By the time we got to the finer details, like how much rent I’d be paying, and helping with other bills, I had a massive headache and couldn’t wait to fall into bed.
My phone dings again, reminding me why I’m awake right now. Sighing, I roll over and rub my eyes, then snatch the irritating device from the bedside table. My heart slams against my ribcage as I stare at the wordBitchon my screen.
Yes, I changed her name in my phone after the last time she messaged me.
And yes, it might be immature of me, but it’s also fitting.
She is a bitch.
Bitch: Sweetheart, we need to talk.
My stomach recoils at the term of endearment—the one she uses when she wants something. The fact she thinks I’m going to agree to meet with her makes my skin crawl. Has she lost her mind completely?
My forgiveness isn’t something she’s going to get anytime soon, if at all. Surely, this time she can understand that what she did is unforgivable. The thing is, though, I know her. This will belike every other time she’s betrayed me. She’ll turn it around to make me think it’s my fault.
Maybe if I ignore her message, she’ll leave me alone. Except my prayers go unanswered when another message pops up.
Bitch: Please, Eden. I’m sick.
What?
I frown at the phone screen, my thumbs hovering over the letters as I try to come up with a response. What the hell do I say?
It’s not unlike her to exaggerate things to get her own way. She’s done it my whole life. Put her in any situation and she’ll manipulate the entire thing until the cows come home. As soon as she thinks she’s losing an argument, she goes in for the attack.
Shoot first, ask questions later. I swear she’s metaphorically murdered me a thousand times by now.
I like to think I’ve grown a thick skin over the years of verbal abuse—she always said I was too pretty to lay her hands on me—but her words still dig in and leave permanent marks. There’s only so many times one can be told they aren’t good enough before they believe it.
Right before my dad passed away, he told me she wasn’t always like that. When they first met, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Could have fooled me. I’m yet to see another side of her that doesn’t involve insulting me daily.
The only thing stopping me from telling her to go to hell is the incessant little voice inside my brain nagging me that she could be genuine this time. After all, she’s still my mother, and if I want answers, there’s probably no better time to hear what she has to say. At least then I might be able to move on with my life.
