Page 94 of Marry Me, Maybe?
“All right, it was you who drove me to it!” she cried. “Why couldn’t you be more like Carter?”
“You mean the son who treats people like shit? That’s the son you want me to be like?”
Bright red spots appeared on her cheeks. “All I wanted was a little affection from you, some sign that you cared. It was such a fight getting you to visit me at first during the summer, but then you caved in and didn’t argue anymore when it was my time to have you. Then, for the first time in years, you refused to visit me. All in the name of infatuation with a convicted felon and a prostitute!”
“You had no right to judge him!”
“I am your mother, and by God, I refused to watch you ruin your life by being with an opportunist. Your father wouldn’t do anything about it and fire him, so I took matters into my own hands.”
“Did you ever stop to think that I really loved him?”
“You were nineteen years old. He was twenty-five at thetime! He had no business spreading my teenage son’s legs open!”
“Iwas the one spreading his legs open! Not that it has anything to do with you. We were both consenting adults, andyoucrossed the line.”
I knew what it was like to be taken advantage of by someone older, and that hadn’t been Hudson. At nineteen, I’d been fully capable of running my lifeandthe ranch. Hell, he’d been the one who was wet behind the ears when I was hitting on him. I’d been the one in control of us untilsheinterfered.
Tears filled her eyes, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I did what any good mother would have done to shield you from a predator.”
“Oh, please, Mother. You were years too late for that, so don’t even.” I took a step back to avoid the hand she stretched toward me. “At nineteen, I could have married him if I’d wanted. He was just six years older than me, and I was the more experienced one. You told him he wasn’t good enough for me. You waved money in his face and dared him to walk away from me. And he did. Do you know how tough the past four years have been for me because of this?”
“But I was right. Didn’t he cheat on you and get someone pregnant? That is hardly my doing.”
“Still, you complicated matters by threatening him with his past when all he wanted was to move forward with his life.”
“You deserved better,” she whispered.
“No, I deserved to be with the man I loved! I loved him, Mom. It wasn’t infatuation, which you would have known if you had asked me. He was the first and only man I’ve ever loved, and you helped to take him away from me.”
“I thought you deserved better.”
“No. You thought I deserved whatyouwanted for me. The lifeyouimagined. An obedient gay son you could show off like a prize ribbon.” I laughed, bitter and broken. “God, you werethrilledwhen you found out both your sons were gay. Not because you understood us, but because you could turn it into something fashionable. Dress us up. Match us with men who fit in with your cocktail parties and your snooty friends in the city. Paraded us around like we were proof of how cultured, how progressive you were, while you never once valued the people who built that lifestyle for you. The ones who work long hours under the sun, in bad weather, who put food on your damn table with their hands and sweat. Well, that’s the kind of man I like,Mother. I like a man who knows the value of hard work. A man who can build a home beside me with his own hands.”
“Matty!”
“Enough.” My voice was hoarse. Shit, I’d been shouting. So much for a closed door between us and the outside world. “Is it any wonder Carter turned out the way he did? I actually feel sorry for him because he looked up to you, but all he’s learned from you is how to manipulate and scheme.”
Mom smacked me hard across the face. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I will not have you talk to me that way. Maybe I messed up, but all I wanted was the best for you.”
I touched the spot that stung. “What’s sad is that you actually believe that. You should go.”
“You’re going to kick me out because of a man?”
“No, because I’m tired of begging you to accept me the way I am—without the fancy clothes. This is me. My father’s a rancher. I’m a rancher, and the man I love is a rancher. Half the time, we stink from sweat and have dirt under our nails, but I’d never give up this life for anything else.”
“Matty, I?—”
“Just be happy that four years later, I got him back, but for God’s sake, stay out of my life. If you can’t understand what I have, then you don’t deserve to be a part of it.”
She pressed her hands together. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t understand how much he meant to you. ”
“It’s good you’re sorry.” My voice cracked. “But I don’t know how to forgive you. Not right now.”
Her face crumpled. “Matty…”
“I mean it. You don’t get to come in here and pretend like everything’s okay. You destroyed something I loved. Someone I loved. And you did it for appearances. Now go. We are happy the way we are. Without you.”
For a moment, she didn’t move. Just stared, like the words had struck her across the face. She opened her mouth as if to argue, to beg, but nothing came. Her throat worked, swallowing down whatever defense she might have had. Her eyes glossed over, wide and wounded, and for the first time, I saw her vulnerable. Not polished. Not untouchable. But a woman standing in the ruins of her own choices.
