Page 50 of The Wreckage of Us

“Mama ... let me help you somehow. Let me—”

“It’s a girl,” she cut in as she rested her hands against her stomach. “I always wanted a real daughter.”

That cut me deeper than anything ever had before.

“I can help with the baby,” I offered.

“Don’t you think you’ve already done enough?” she asked as the guard walked over to lead her away. “I never want to see you again, and when karma catches up to you for what you’ve done, I hope it burns.”

She was guided away, leaving me standing there with a hole in my heart and an ache in my soul. And the burning of said karma? It happened instantly. My entire being was set to flames.

14

IAN

When Hazel came back, she was in a frenzy, wiping fallen tears from her eyes at a rapid speed. I hopped out of the truck and raised an eyebrow at her. “Hey, you okay?”

She didn’t say a word, probably because her emotions were too heightened. She toppled toward me as I caught her in my arms. She began to sob into my T-shirt, tugging me closer to her, and I allowed it. She was breaking, and I was the only thing keeping her from crashing to the ground.

I didn’t know how long I held on to her. Five minutes, maybe ten. All I knew was I stayed as long as she needed me to be there for her.

When we started our trek back home, Hazel remained pretty quiet, and I didn’t push her to talk. I knew she’d speak up when she was ready, and she did when the time came.

We were about two hours into the drive home when she cleared her throat. “She’s taking the fall, so he’ll get out before her and be able to raise the kid once it’s born ...” She cried harder. “It’s not right. No kid should be raised by Charlie. I’ve been through that. It’s not a good thing. And that kid won’t even have my mom by their side ... even though she struggled, she was still a mom sometimes. That kid will only have the monster.”

“Shit ... I’m sorry, Haze. I don’t know ... maybe there’s a way it can be proven that Charlie can’t have the kid ...”

“I asked to help her, but she doesn’t want my help.” She shrugged and looked down to her hands. “She said I was a mistake. She said I was the biggest fuckup she’d ever made in her life and she wished she would’ve aborted me when she had the chance.”

Her head lowered, her tears returned, and I hated the fact that I was now on the freeway and couldn’t reach over to hug her again.

“That’s a messed-up thing to say to a person. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did. What I did was awful. And now she’s going to be there longer, because I didn’t think it all through.”

“What you did saved your mother’s life.”

“I don’t know ... each night I’ve been having nightmares. I twist and turn in bed at the thought of what I did. I wake up in a panic, because I can’t breathe. Then I can’t fall back asleep. I don’t think I deserve to sleep comfortably while she’s in such a terrible place. Why should I be able to sleep peacefully when she couldn’t do the same? I mean, what kind of monster would do that to their own mother? I figured she’d end up free ...” She sniffled and wiped her sleeve beneath her nose. “I just didn’t want her to die.”

I parted my lips to speak, but she shook her head. “Can we just listen to music? I don’t think I need comfort right now. I want to feel like shit for a while.”

I agreed to her request and turned on Tool’s second album, my favorite one.

We drove the remainder of the way in silence, even though I wanted to keep telling Hazel that the world was better with her in it. Even if it kept showing her reasons why she shouldn’t have belonged.

I parked the truck in the driveway, and Hazel hopped out. She turned to me and gave me a smile, but it wasn’t a happy smile or anything. I didn’t know smiles could be sad until I saw the one resting on her lips.

“Thanks, Ian. Sorry you wasted your day.”

“It wasn’t a waste. I’m glad I could help you. If you ever need anything at all, I’m around.”

“Thanks again.” She snickered to herself and brushed her finger across the bridge of her nose. “I thought seeing my mom today would’ve brought me a little bit more comfort with today being the day that it is.”

“What’s today?”

She rubbed the palms of her hands over her tired eyes. “My birthday.”

“Shit,” I muttered. What a shitty birthday. What a shitty life. “Happy birthday, Haze. Sorry it was so crappy.”

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