Page 111 of 1 Last Shot

From outside of the cage, I hear Aiden's shell-shocked voice. "Did I just step into Bizarro world?"

My brow furrows as I turn a glare on him. I open my mouth to invite him in for a round, but in the end…

I just launch into a burpee. And then four more.

Coach laughs so hard he almost falls over.

And just like that, I become part of a family.

* * *

I feel happy when I walk out of the gym. Like I can actually breathe for the first time in my life.

Is this what it feels like to have a support system? Is this what I've been missing my entire life? Because this makes me feel like I could take on the world and win. I feel…light.

The feeling continues throughout my afternoon—through my walk with Oscar, my ride to pick up my girl, and during my rare night off that I spend on the couch watching TV with Isabella. And after her repeated glances my way, I realize the smile hasn’t left my face since we walked into my apartment.

It hits me that this feeling started bubbling inside me weeks ago, when I first started spending time with Isabella. Thinking back to that time, to the confusion I felt about life being this easy, thisgood, and not knowing what to do with it. Even when I accepted it, it felt like I had to grab on with both hands and hold on for dear life—to hold on to it for as long as I could, because it was only temporary.

And now… now I realize it’s not temporary. Now, I realize that this feeling is a part of me. And sometimes it’s going to hit stronger than other times, but this strength, thishappiness, is something I’m capable of, regardless of everything.

I’m still thinking about it when Isabella and I eventually go to bed. And I lie there, with my girl in my arms and my dog at my feet, and I think my chest is going to explode from these feelings.

There's only a single gray spot in the back of my brain.

Pulling up my recent messages, I type out a text.

Me: We need to talk

Mom: I knew you’d come to your senses. When?

My heart burns at the ill-intent in her message.Did she ever treat me with a mother's love? Or was it always an act?

Me: Meet me at my apartment at noon tomorrow

Mom: See you then, Kane

* * *

I’m waiting on the stoop of my apartment building when she arrives. I stand as she walks up the steps, looking just as rundown as she did six days ago when she ambushed me here. Her clothes are ill-fitting and loose, and she's got dark bags under her eyes.

She looks sober, but she's clearly not doing well.

As I search for my key to unlock the front door, I wonder not for the hundredth time in my life if I'm making a mistake by not helping her. Even though I've given into her demands, given her the shirt off my back and every dollar out of my pocket, each of those times has come with ten times that many instances of trying to shut her down and push her away. And every time, every single time for the last twenty-six years, I've wondered if I was making a mistake.

This time is no different.

And just as she has every time before this, she looks smug as I let her in. Like she already knows she's going to win this twisted game between us. Either now, or in another two days after more threats, but she clearly thinks she's going to get what she wants.

We're both quiet as I let her in. As I gesture for her to take a seat on the couch, as I busy myself with getting Oscar some fresh water.

The sadness in my chest deepens when she barely spares Oscar a glance. She's too busy looking around my apartment, probably thinking about what she could steal, to care about this living thing that her son seems to really care about. It's adog, for fuck's sake. She can't gather enough humanity to give even a little bit of a shit about man’s best friend? Is she really that self-centered?

But, as much as it saddens me, that thought also solidifies in my brain that I'm doing the right thing.

I place Oscar's water bowl in front of him, steeling myself for a conversation ten years overdue. And then I take a seat on the coffee table in front of my mom.

"I'm not going to give you the money," I start quietly.

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