Page 54 of Atlas
“Damn pills didn’t work. I smoked, drank, fell down the stairs, nothing. Sent you to the firehouse and your damn father and then later your sister kept bringing you back. When are you going to get it, Atlas? I don’t want to be your mother.”
I don’t want to be your mother.
There has been this tiny hair that has been holding on to the hope that one day, my mother would want to start over. That one day she would get sober and get her life together. And while I will still hope like hell she does, sober or not–I will never see this woman again.
“I think… I just got it.” I said firmly as I turn to head to the door, ripping it open.
“Hey! Where’s the money?” I crumple the bills and throw them in a pile of trash before leaving the apartment. Once in my vehicle, I begin beating my steering wheel while screaming.
Once I’ve broken my knuckles apart, I finally stop hitting the steering wheel and rest my head back.
She never wanted me. These little “mother moments” that I’ve paid for over the years, I thought maybe that was her and she just was too full of shame now to try and show it. But no…she never wanted me. And Millie has been bringing me back each time she dumped me?
My watch alerts me, and I look to see it’s Ren’s glucose monitor. Fuck, she’s dropping.
I turn the car on and speed out of the parking lot while dialing her number. It rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer.
“No, no, no!” I growl and hang up. Thoughts of her unconscious somewhere fill my mind and I begin to panic. I scroll my contacts and call Janie.
“Fuck you.” Is my immediate greeting.
“Wait, she's low!” I yell before she has time to hang up. “I’m a shit person but please, I don’t know where she is and–”
“She’s with her parents, so again– FUCK. YOU.” The call ends and I groan as I pull up to a stoplight. I scroll through my contacts and hit another name.
“Oh, hell no.” Sunday’s southern twang echoes through my speakers. “Boy, you’ve lost your damn mind if you think I haven’t already heard. I am already headed to Hel’s with a bag of sugar for your motorcycle.”
“Please, please, please. I know she’s with her parents, but her sugar is still dropping. PLEASE call her and check on her. Please.”
There is silence, and then a sigh. “Wade!” She yells and rustling follows. “Let me borrow your phone for a second.” She says to her son and there are some more noises and muffled voices before Sunday comes back on.
“Ren is fine.” Sunday says after several moments. “I talked to her mother, she is with her, they are taking care of it. Now leave her alone.”
“Sunday–” The line goes dead and I punch my steering wheel again before driving off to head home.
Chapter 23
Lauren
“Are you going to talk about it? Or just… lay there.” Mom asks for what feels like the hundredth time since Bruno and I showed up at their house two days ago. Luckily–if you want to call it that–I had dropped so low the first day that I was asleep most of the afternoon and evening. But since then, she’s been very much up my ass. I would think it was concern, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s my mother and I know she’s only asking to be nosey.
“Mom, I really don’t want to.” I groan as I lay my head on the couch. “Atlas and I are just having a disagreement.”
“So? Talk it out. You know better than to waste time on little pissing matches. My god, if your father and I separated every time he and I fought–”
“Mom,” I interrupt, rubbing my head. “We aren’t separated. Someone close to him passed away and I’m giving him time to process. And since when were you on his side?”
“I’m not,” she shrugs while walking to my bedroom door. “I think he is all wrong for you, I think he is going to ruin any potential you had to make something for yourself. But, you’re a grown woman and usually, aren’t under my roof. So, I have toaccept your very wrong choices.” With that said, she walks out of the room, leaving me to lay on the bed.
While what she said is harsh, it’s probably the closest thing to a compliment that she will ever give to Atlas.
I look over to the foot of my bed and sigh as Bruno’s sad eyes look at me. “I’m just trying to give him space.” I justify. Bruno has been completely distraught since we left the apartment and Atlas. He wasn’t the only one.
It’s funny because the night before, he and I had sex and when he told me he loved me, well, it terrified me, let’s be honest. But over that night, I started thinking how much I’ve grown accustomed to having him with me, and how the anger and jealousy I felt over Valentina, it wasn’t fake wife or the unspoken fuck buddies arrangement we had going on. No, it was a woman claimingherman. Atlas is mine, and I think I’m falling in love with him too.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door that pulls me from my thoughts.
“You decent?” Is that?
