Page 33 of Let Me Love You
Chapter Eight
Frustration didn’t even begin to describe how Ren felt. Shirtless, he stormed out of Stacey’s house wanting to punch something harder than her wall. He wasn’t a violent person, had only been in a couple fights in his life and those had been instigated on the football field. But his mother refused to let him be an adult. Treated him like a child incapable of making decisions. She’d actually scolded him in front of the woman he wanted to win over. Embarrassing and completely unnecessary.
And the woman he loved with all his being had refused to let him love her. Stacey had shut him out after giving him a glimpse of what they could be.
Fuuuccckkk!
How did things get so screwed up?
Pushing through the front door, he expected his mother to rush him with angry words. To itemize all the ways he was screwing up the life she’d planned for him. He’d never seen her so pissed.
Instead, silence embraced him. He could slink to his room and avoid the whole confrontation, give her the silent treatment until she conceded she’d been in the wrong, but that wouldn’t help his chances of getting back with Stacey, or repair his rapport with his mom. Despite her behavior, he still wanted to salvage their relationship.
The way she attacked Stacey upset him, especially after everything Stacey had been through already. His gut curled into a knot of guilt at having been so selfish, dragging Stacey into this situation and not discussing things with his mother.
Would his mom have been mad if he’d talked to her first? Yes. He knew that. But his avoidance of the topic was childish. His father had warned him. If he wanted to convince Stacey a relationship between them was possible, he needed to man-up. Show her he was mature enough to handle a relationship and all the consequences—both good and not so good—that came with one.
A strange calmness washed over him, stripping away the anger and frustration from moments ago. He’d been going about things all wrong. He wasn’t going to persuade Stacey to give them a shot with just words or sex, no matter how incredible the sex might be. He needed to prove his feelings through his actions. First action: Dealing with his mother.
“Mom,” he called, climbing the staircase to the bedrooms on the second floor. A door creaked open and Ren’s father stepped into the hallway. He looked a little worn, hair disheveled, lines etched in his forehead, eyes weary. When his mother was upset, his dad took the brunt of it.
“I think I’ve calmed her down. Are you sure you want to have this conversation now?”
“I need to talk to her.” Ren nodded. “I screwed up by putting it off. I should have had this conversation yesterday when the opportunity presented itself, but I chickened out. It’s my fault she found out this way. I don’t want her angry at Stacey. This is on me.” He ducked into his bedroom across the hallway and grabbed a gray t-shirt.
“Enter at your own risk,” his father warned. “I finally got her to stop cussing and crying.” He patted Ren on the shoulder before scooting by and heading downstairs.
“Mom?” Ren knocked softly.
Turning the handle, he pushed the door open a crack and peeked in. His mother huddled in her cushioned chaise near the bay window. The sun poured in from the open blinds, warming the room and highlighting the rich greens and silver of his parents’ décor.
“Can we talk?” Ren inched inside, leaving the door cracked just in case he needed to yell for assistance. Not that his mother would ever get physical with him. She’d never laid a hand on him, his father either. But he had never been good at dealing with her when she melted down in tears or lectured him to no end. That was Dad’s territory.
“Talk about what?” Shannon didn’t turn in his direction. She stared out the window at the inter-coastal canal behind their house. Though he loved his mother, her guilt trip routine could wear on him.
“My relationship with Stacey.” He sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. His blood pumped fast, making him jittery. Though he knew the conversation necessary, it didn’t make it any less nerve-racking. She had a vision for his life and found it difficult to swallow if he had different plans.
“Oh, okay,” she bit out, but still didn’t turn. “So, youdowant to discuss how you’re throwing your life away and at such an early stage.”
Not being able to see her face made him nervous. Usually his puppy dog eyes could break her anger, if even just a little bit. He couldn’t read her facial expressions with her back to him, but she had a tone colder than the front row at a hockey game.
“Mom, I’m in love with her.”
“Ha! Lust and love are not the same thing, Son.” Shannon turned her head slightly to look at him. “Trust me, I get it. Stacey is beautiful. And she is young, if you are comparing her to me. So, I get the fantasy. But you are smarter than that to mistake a sexual attraction for love.”
“You knowmebetter than that. I know the difference. Yes, I’m physically attracted to her, but it goes beyond that. Way beyond. For the first time ever, I have feelings for a woman. You and Dad used to tease me about not dating girls and missing my opportunity to fall in love. Well, it’s happened.” Ren swept his hands through his short hair and took a deep breath. Despite the circumstances, saying his feelings out loud felt good, especially to his mom. Made them more real, more tangible.
“You’re twenty-three. Your longest relationship was prom weekend your senior year. What do you know about love?” Shannon swung her legs over the side of the chaise lounge and stared at him. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.
He hated hurting her even if she was wrong and went off the deep-end earlier. He fidgeted.
“How old were you when you married Dad?”
“Damn it! Are we talking about marriage now?” Her voice was clipped. “Things were different back then.”
“How old, Mom?” He gripped his legs right above his knees and squeezed. It hurt, but helped him remain calm. At this point, he wasn’t talking about marriage. Christ, he couldn’t even get Stacey to give him a date yet, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about making a life with her, one that included changing her name. “You say ‘back then’ like you got married in the nineteen fifties.”
“Well, it was hardly the nineteen fifties.” She scoffed. “But it was over twenty-five years ago. And your dad and I had known each other since we were thirteen.”
