Page 11 of If You Were Mine
“I don’t understand why you’re here though. Dorian, it’s been a year. I know that you’re still hurt, and being crippled?—”
“Fuck off. Don’t use that word. Don’t even go down a path where you’re going to say something so ignorant that I’m going to have to scream.”
“That’s not what I mean. But you don’t even go to physical therapy, Dorian.”
“I do. I just don’t let you take me. Because I’m not a toddler.”
“A toddler wouldn’t have gone up in that plane with that man to begin with. What were you thinking even getting in that small plane with a pilot who wasn’t even a pilot, just your friend?”
“Don’t talk about Joshua. Don’t even mention him.”
“I know. I know he’s gone. But his lack of skill almost killed you. And now you have all those scars, and you’re never going to be able to walk again.”
I had to count to ten, slowly, breathing in and out so I didn’t get up and beat my mother with my cane.
She had never understood my friendship with Joshua. Because every time I went to Cage Lake, the small town that my family literally owned because we were ridiculous, she had always thought any relationship with the townies—in her words—would be slumming. Also in her words because my mother could never look for the good in people. Only who could do good for her.
Because Joshua hadn’t been the rich boy in town. But there weren’t many rich boys in Cage Lake other than the Cages themselves. So I hadn’t known what my mother was thinking to begin with.
Joshua and I clicked from the moment we had seen each other and had been friends through everything. Some of the last things I had said to him were so cruel that I could barely breathe. I pushed those thoughts from my mind, because dwelling on them didn’t help anything.
And the more I dwelled, the more I thought about her.
No, I wouldn’t think about her. I couldn’t.
“Mom. I use a cane occasionally. Because sometimes my leg fucking hurts. But I’m fine. Sure, I’m going to be able to tell when the air pressure changes and a storm’s coming when my knee aches, so that just means I’ve reached a version of old age a bit earlier than some. But I’m fine.”
“Then why are you here and not at home? Why aren’t you working on any of your businesses? You’re just letting it go to waste. That is not what your father taught you.”
“We both know my father didn’t teach me anything. And I can handle my businesses. I have managers for a reason.”
“And they’re going to manage them into the ground without you there overseeing things personally. They need a Cage.”
“Contrary to popular belief, not everybody needs a damn Cage.”
“Is everything okay up here?”
I sat up straighter and turned towards the doorway as Blakely stood there, her dark blonde hair pulled back from her face. She glared at my mother for an instant, before her expression softened as she looked over at me.
I loved my sister-in-law, but I hated that look.
It wasn’t quite pity. Because she knew I hated a pitying look. But it was care. And I wasn’t sure what the hell I was supposed to do with that.
“It’s none of your concern. But why don’t you go get my son something to drink. Do something for him for once.”
“Your son can walk to the kitchen and get it himself. As he told me this morning.” She winked at me as she said it, helping my shoulders drop.
My lips quirked into a smile. “I was a bit of a bastard this morning, wasn’t I?” My mother was lucky Blakely had spoken first or I’d have kicked the woman out myself for daring to speak to Blakely like that.
“You had just done your PT, so you were in a mood. It’s okay.” She gave a pointed look to my mother that told me our argument had carried throughout the house.
“Dorian—” my mother began.
“Just go home. I’m not staying with you. God, I’m never staying with you.”
“And so you’re just going to live on your brother’s charity.”
“Yup. That sounds pretty good.” I turned to Blakely, grinning. “What do you say? Do you mind if I live here forever? Oh, maybe you can marry me as well, and we can get a whole poly going on. But not the way that Ford is with his husband. You know, as Aston’s my brother.”
