Page 57 of Don't Leave Me
13
Marc
My world was in my arms right now. She was wrapped up into a tight ball, but I was still holding her, which meant she couldn’t run away or hide or die on me.
It felt like I had one chance, and one chance only, to get this right. For me, for her, and for the kid snoring away in the next room, who didn’t know his future happiness hinged on whether I convinced her of the truth.
My truth.
I pulled her against me more tightly and pressed my chin on her shoulder. In some ways it made it easier, not having to look her in the face, not having to see what was in her eyes. Because it was always there in Ash’s eyes.
Her truth.
I knew her truth was me.
“I never told you about the day cops came to take me away from my mother.”
“You never talked about her,” Ash said quietly.
“No. Because it hurt too much. But that day, the day the cops showed up at the door, I knew I was fucked. Because Mom was already high. On the couch, spaced out, wearing a nightgown and nothing else. We lived in this one-room studio, so it was all there for them to see from the door. The needles on the carpet by the couch. The chaos of living with a junkie. I remember running over to the couch and trying to shake her awake. To get her to be more alert. I kept telling them she was just asleep. She’d been working late, and she was just tired. Meanwhile, one of the cops was already looking around for my clothes to put in a bag. I told my mom they were going to take me away. I told her if she didn’t get up, if she didn’t fight for me, they were going to take me. And she said she didn’t care.”
The memory washed over me like it had just happened. I remembered how she’d even tried to shoo me away, with her arm hanging helplessly off the couch.
Don’t care.
Slurred and barely said, but I heard it.
“I screamed at her, raged at her, until finally, one of the cops had to physically pick me up and pull me out of the apartment. As soon as the apartment door shut, I was done. Any love I’d felt for her was gone. She didn’t care about me, then I didn’t care about her.”
Ash’s hand reached for my thigh. “But that’s not true. You did love her. You kept visiting her.”
“I’m not saying I didn’t try. I did. I wanted to be enough to make her better, but I don’t know if I understood then, what her getting better meant. The more time passed, the more I was worried she would.”
“But that last time you went to visit her, and she was gone. You were so upset. George wouldn’t let me follow you.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t upset she was gone. I was pissed, yes. Just one more way she got to say,don’t care,and I’d had to take it, had to feel her rejection deep inside. But by then I didn’t want to go back with her. Ask me why.”
“Because you had George. Who was good to you. You had a stable home and a good school.”
“No. I was so mad that day, so pissed, because I was afraid she was going to get better. That she was going to want me back. Being afraid like that, knowing I was vulnerable again, sent me into a freaking rage. It was you, Ash. I was afraid she was going to take me back and I was going to lose you.”
She tried to turn her head, to see my face, but I had her pinned up against me.
“Marc, you came looking for her after all these years. Don’t tell me it wasn’t out of love.”
“It wasn’t. I wanted to put a period on that part of my life. I thought you might be right, and maybe it would give me some closure, but I stopped loving my mother the moment she said she didn’t care.”
“I don’t believe you,” Ash said quietly. “She’s the reason you can’t love me.”
This was hard. How did I convince someone of the truth, when I’d been lying to her and myself for so long?
“No, Ash. I told you back then I would never say those words to you, not because of my mother, but because of you.”
Again, I could feel her jerk in my arms and so I squeezed her harder.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I couldn’t risk it. If I never told you I loved you, then you could never say you didn’t care.”
