Page 62 of Feel It All

I need this car ride to process what just happened, because I am having a hard time fully grasping the fact that she really just tried to push him back with Claire right in front of me. I mean, what was she thinking? That he would just run back into her arms?

“Okay, buttercup,” he puts the car in drive, and we head back to Aster Creek.

Chapter 17

Graham

Idon’tknowwhatjust happened, I truly don’t. In fact, I don’t even believe what just happened. Why, why did my mom do that? Claire seemed to be one of her victims in this horrid scheme. She had just gotten the closure she wanted, just to be sucked back in.

And poor Winry, my heart breaks a little every time I look over at her. Winry just sits silently in my car, staring out the window. She’s upset, I understand, hell I’m upset. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. How can I fix this? What can I do to make it better? I spend the whole drive trying to figure it out, but all I do know is that I can’t lose her over this. I refuse.

We pull into my driveway and just sit in the car for a moment.

“Win, will you come inside please?” I’ll beg her if I have to, I don’t want to just leave her upset.

“Sure,” she croaks out. She opens her door and gets out without looking at me.

I get out of the car and unlock the front door. I pull it open and gesture for her to go first. She has been avoiding eye contact since this whole mess started.

“I am just going to go to the bathroom really quick,” she mumbles.

I let her go, and my phone vibrates for the thousandth time. Mom has called and texted nonstop since we left, but I haven’t answered a single one.

I pace in my living room, too anxious to be still. I hear the bathroom door open and shut. I turn and we finally make eye contact. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her chest is starting to turn blotchy. I walk over to her and encase her in my arms.

“Winry, I am so sorry. I truly am. That was not okay, what she did today was horrible.” A tear escapes down her face and I catch it with my thumb. “Please don’t cry, baby. What happened doesn’t change anything for me, okay?”

“She didn’t even give me a chance, Graham. Why? What did I do?” She takes a step back, breaking out of my arms, and wipes another tear.

“Nothing, Win. You didn’t deserve this; I don’t know why it happened. I wish I could go back and not even go this morning. Please don’t let this taint our whole weekend. Like I said, what happened doesn’t have any effect on how I feel about you.” I capture her face in my hands. Her big hazel eyes look up at me, tears pool at the bottom.

“Okay.” I can tell she is doing everything she can not to let all of the tears out.

“Hey, want to hear a joke?” I say, pulling her into a hug, and she nods her head.

I reach for my phone in my pocket and pull out my notes. I may have written down several jokes to have handy. “What kind of shoes does a thief wear?”

“I don’t know, what?” She whispers and nuzzles her head deeper in my chest.

“Sneakers.”

She muffles a laugh. “That was a good one.”

I rub her back, “I’ve got some more if you need another.”

“That’s okay, save them for next time.” She tightens her arms around me.

Next time. That’s the best thing I have heard all morning. “What do you want the rest of the day, buttercup? I’ll do whatever you want.”

She takes a deep breath, “Ugh, I want to take a nap and forget this day happened.”

“Okay, come on.” We go upstairs and I give her a t-shirt to wear, and we climb in the bed. She cuddles up next to me and I kiss the top of her head. She drifts off pretty quickly and I follow shortly after.

Winry goes back to her place the next morning. After our nap, we stayed up half of the night just hanging out. She cheered up some, but she was still off when she left this morning.

I check my phone. I have twenty-eight texts and fifteen missed calls and counting, all from my mom. I’m uninterested in her excuses. I don’t even bother reading the texts. I know they will just add fuel to the fire. I shut off my phone and decide to go for a run to clear my head.

I run through town, pushing myself to go past my usual five miles. I need to work out some of this anger. At the end of the day, she is my mom and I know I will need to talk to her, but right now I’m likely to say something I will regret.

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