“The one you never like to discuss.”
“My birth mother is exactly where she’s been the last two years,” I say curtly. “In a private room at Saint Mary’s. Excellent care. Top-tier specialists. Bills paid.”
“Still haven’t visited?”
I shake my head. “I’m respecting her wishes.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Five years ago.”
There have been moments before that when the updates from her doctors weren’t enough, and I needed to see for myself that she was still breathing.
She’s been fighting cancer for eight years, but she looked like she’d already lost the day I walked into that sterile hospital room.
Her family couldn’t care for her anymore, and even though she hardly looked at me, barely muttered a hello, I couldn’t stomach the idea of her being dumped in some understaffed facility to be forgotten about.
So, yeah, I stepped in. Arranged the transfer, wrote the checks, and put her somewhere with soft sheets and private nurses.
Even then, she still wouldn’t look at me. I was nothing but an intrusion.
The part that pisses me off the most is that I still feel anything at all.
It’s a pathetic kind of loyalty—loyalty to someone who never once showed up for me—and I hate myself for it.
My jaw ticks, betraying irritation despite my effort. “She made it clear more than once that she wants nothing to do with me. I’m a dark reminder. Her words, not mine. She built a new life, had two more kids, and got herself the family she wanted. I’mrespecting her choice.”
Rae’s thoughtful gaze lingers on me. “Respecting her choice by paying for her care without acknowledgment?”
“It’s just money, Rae. I can’t change her mind.”
She nods slowly. “Does Celeste know about any of this?”
“Fuck, no,” I snap. “And she won’t.”
“Maybe she should.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Maybe because she’s someone who makes you uncomfortable, and your past is uncomfortable territory. Maybe you need someone to challenge the way you’ve boxed yourself in.”
“My past isn’t relevant to my obsession with Celeste.”
“Isn’t it? You have abandonment issues, Julian. Control issues. Obsession seems perfectly fitting.”
“Yes, thank you for the neat little psychological triangle,” I interrupt. “I’m aware of it.”
“Awareness is the first step.”
“And denial is the second, right?” I sit up again, running a hand roughly through my hair. “Can we wrap this up? My pride can only handle so much abuse in one session.”
She laughs softly, eyes bright. “Sure, Julian, but can I offer you some advice first?”
Wary, I reply, “I suppose that’s your job.”
“Let yourself enjoy this.”
“Enjoy what? The insanity?”