I furrowed my brow, a bit bothered by his admission. “Why did you want me dressed?”
“I’m a drug dealer, Abby. Not a rapist. If I’m going to have sex with you, you’re going to be awake. And I’m going to make sure you enjoy it.” He lifted his shirt off my back and let in a sharp appreciative breath. I loved how he looked at me and worshiped my body with his eyes. “I also wanted you to be sure that you understood what you were willing to give up last night, and that it was still what you wanted once you had a clear head.”
His hand travel down my body and caressed the inside of my wet thighs. I moaned loudly, pleasured by his skilled touch. As I felt the excitement grow he put his lips back on mine.
I felt my skin tingle. Every nerve in my body was in overdrive. Every touch of his hand, lips and tongue felt like fireworks of pure pleasure bursting inside of me.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, grazing my entrance.
I closed my eyes and saw the dark pair of eyes I missed so much staring angrily at me.
Ignore them, Abby. He left you.
I lifted my hips and guided Damian slowly inside of me. His thrusts were long and greedy as he pounded in and out of me. He took what he wanted and gave me what I needed.
He’s gone. And so are you…
Mother’s Always Know Best
Five years and seven months later
Oliver
“Will I be seeing you tonight?” she asked as we walked down the cream-colored halls of my house. She and I had been together a little over a month, but honestly our relationship was mostly based on physical attraction. She was pretty with long brown hair, big brown eyes and an amazing body that I craved to get myself lost in. But the thing about Sam was that she was very adamant about spending every free moment with me, regardless of the fact that my mother’s sickness was getting worse by the day. It annoyed the hell out of me.
“I don’t know, Sam. I’ll see how my mom’s doing later in the day, and I’ll give you a call.”
“Oliver?” I heard my mother calling me again from her room across the living room. I could only hope she hadn’t been calling me for too long.
“Coming, Mom,” I shouted back.
“Listen, Oliver, I get it. She’s sick. But don’t you think you’re allowed to have a little fun?” Sam asked, bending over to put her ankle boots on.
I grunted in appreciation at the sight of her tight ass. She rose back and as she licked her luscious lips, I felt the tightening in my pants.
“Well if you ask me, last night was pretty fucking fantastic,” I remarked thinking about her gifted mouth around my dick.
She pretended to gasp in surprise at my crude joke, but it didn’t take much to let her fake act fall. “Last night was amazing, Oliver, but I meant like going out to Timmy’s or Red’s Loft. Meet up with some friends, dance and drink, you know?”
I took a step back. “Sam, you know I can’t.”
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Call me later. And if I’m not busy, I might come over.” She stepped outside without looking back or adding anything to the conversation and I slammed the door as soon as her foot left the threshold.
I thought things with Sam would have been different, that she would understand that I wasn’t ready to be emotionally invested. Taking care of my mother was becoming more and more difficult, her autonomy slipping away by the day. I didn’t have time nor did I have the desire, to invest my energy in something that I knew wouldn’t last anyway. I hated when relationships became complicated. Actually, I could almost say I hated relationships altogether. Besides, this was my mom; no one came before her needs. She was my priority and nobody should have expected anything less.
When high school ended, I moved out of my mother’s house and found an apartment in Surrey, with my friends Kayden and Laney, to study Social Services. Laney studied health and became a nurse and Kayden studied business, hoping to become a renowned business consultant.
About a year before my degree ended, I noticed that every time I saw her, my mother was losing weight, her skin-tone was pale, she slept a lot and even though she had many hours of sleep, she felt weak. My mother had always been full of joy and life, and her frail state bothered me immensely. Finally, after many arguments, I convinced her to let my Uncle Jerry take her for a medical consultation. It turned out she had bone cancer.
The blow shattered my world. I felt helpless and was ready to give everything up in order to help. Unfortunately, my mother had refused to let me quit school in order to take care of her. She and I had gotten into it more times than I could count. I hated not being there for her, I hated that every time I saw her she looked worse than the last. But that’s what cancer was all about and I had no other choice to comply with her desires. So, while I was in school, my uncle took care of her and whenever I could, I would go back home and take over. It involved a lot of travelling, but it was the only way.
I opened the door to my mother’s pale yellow room. Laney and I had painted it three months ago when the doctor told her that the treatments for her cancer had failed, giving her only a few more months to live. Because she was exhausted and unable to go outside as much as she wanted, Laney and I went to the store and splurged on furnishings, giving her room a full makeover. We imitated the sun and the outside world with white, yellow and soft green colored walls and linen.
As I walked inside, I immediately noticed her smile, which was much different than the previous morning. The day before, she was barely able to talk without wincing in pain. I’d had to administer a lot of morphine compared to her usual dosage, and she’d ended up sleeping her way through the day into the night. There were good days and bad ones; it all depended on her pain and the medication.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Good morning, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m great. You look like you’re in pretty good shape this morning. Did you sleep well?”
Good nights were making themselves scarce. I was always relieved when she woke up well rested.
She nodded. “Did you get into a fight with that girl again?”
“No, Mom. Sam and I are fine.” It was pointless to get into that conversation with her. “Would you like it if we went outside for breakfast and fresh air?”
She beamed at the idea. My heart would always melt at her enthusiasm for such simple pleasures.
I picked up my mother’s small frame, settled her down on the wheelchair beside her bed and covered her body with enough blankets so that she wouldn’t get cold. It barely took any effort to carry her anymore. It pained me to watch her fade away. She had lost so much weight since her chemotherapy. The last time we went to her doctor’s office, they informed us that her tumors where spreading faster than anticipated and that she had less than a month to live. That shitty disease was engulfing her whole body. Unfortunately, I had to find a way to accept that, sooner or later, I was going to lose her. There was really nothing left to do other than to wait for the day it would just happen, all the while pretending I was okay and strong enough for the both of us.
I wheeled her out and made my way outside to the gazebo. It was the safest place to be if I wanted to shelter her from the mountain breeze. When I covered her body with the extra blanket, she gave me an annoyed eye roll.
“Oliver, if you put any more blankets on me, I’ll die of suffocation. Just go back inside and get me my medication with some tea and a little food to nibble on.”
Regrettably, my mother the caffeine junky couldn’t drink coffee anymore. Her system was too fragile to digest it. She took the news pretty hard once she found out why she kept having intense heartburn. In fact she was more crushed by the fact that she couldn’t have her caffeine fix, than cancer itself. And even though I suggested quitting along with her she refused. She said that when I drank my coffee while she drank her tea, she could pretend for a couple of sips that it was coffee in her cup not tasteless flower water.
As I made my way back with my coffee and her te
a, I stood at the bottom step of our back yard deck and watched my mother’s peacefulness as she enjoyed the morning sun and the beautiful mountain-view.
“Here you go, Mom,” I said making my way back to her.
“Thank you, honey.” Her voice already showed signs of fatigue.
The fact that she was wasting away by the day was eating me up from inside. “Are you cold? Can I get you anything else?”
“Oliver, just relax. I’m fine.” I complied and took a seat beside her. “I think it’s time for us to go home, sweetheart.”
I waited for her to continue, worried about her sudden memory loss. I hoped there was more to her statement, but she added nothing. I hated when stuff like this happened; I was never really sure how to treat it so she wouldn’t take my recovering her mishap too personally.
“We are home, Mom,” I answered.
“No, Oliver, I meant home, like back home. Back to my sister, your father, our family–”
“Mom, Dad’s gone. He passed away six years ago,” I replied afraid it might cause her more pain.
The look she gave me told me how insulted she was. “I have cancer, Oliver. I’m not suffering from Alzheimer’s.”
What a relief…
“I’m sorry I offended you. It’s just that I thought… you know what? Never mind. I’m sorry.”
She turned her head back to the open sky. “Don’t you miss her?” she asked as her gaze tracked a hawk flying nearby. I followed my mother’s focus and watched as the predator disappeared between the trees to attacks its next prey.
“Who?”
“Abbygail,” she responded blatantly.
As if I was supposed to know whom you’re talking about.
My mother bored her eyes into mine, and lingered on my uneasy features. I hadn’t thought about Abbygail Evens in years. Well that’s not quite true. I saw her name on my chest every time I saw my reflection in the mirror, but I refused to put any thought into it.
At least that’s what I’d tell myself anyway.
Besides, it had been there for so long, it just felt like it was a part of me. And when girls asked me about it, I would simply find a subtle way to avoid answering them. I just couldn’t understand why my mother would bring this up.
“No, I don’t.”
Her eyes narrowed, and then she sighed.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I thought my dying would have at least gotten me a little admission and truth about you and her.”
I scratched my jaw and shut my eyes in aggravation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t thought about her in years.”
My mother started to laugh, and although it was at my expense, the sound of it was like music to my ears. “Please, Oliver, don’t you realize who I am? I’m your mother. I made you. I know you and your heart more than anyone on this earth, especially when it concerns Abbygail Evens. Besides, I can always tell when you’re lying to me.”
“Whatever, Mom…”
“Do you remember the day you left Carrington?
Yes, a day I would rather forget, thank you very much.
“You told me you and Abby had worked things out the previous night. Guess what, Oliver? I knew it was a lie the second the words came out of your mouth.”
“How’d you know that?”
“You scratch your jaw every time you lie,” she giggled.
I smirked. I never realized people noticed I did that. “If you knew it was a lie then why not call me out on it?”
I took a mental note to pay attention to my jaw scratching from that moment on.
“And say what? And what would have been the purpose? You two were too proud to try and talk through it, and in my opinion you were both smart enough to figure it out on your own.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It had nothing to do with pride.”
“Come on, Oliver. Both of you were in love with each other, but wouldn’t admit it. If it wasn’t pride, then what was it?”
“Fear,” I answered without a doubt. “If I admit to loving her then, will you let the subject go?”
“Of course I won’t. Besides, I already knew you were in love with her. I don’t need you to admit to that. You had her name tattooed over your heart at seventeen years old, Oliver. You don’t do that if you aren’t in love with someone.”
“Maybe it was because at that point in my life, I just wanted a reminder of our relationship. Or maybe it was because I valued her friendship more than anything else in this world.”
“No. It was because you were in love with her.”
I growled. “Even if I was, which I still refuse to confirm, I haven’t thought about her in years. I’ve dated plenty of girls since I kissed her. As you can see, I am way over Abbygail Evens.”
“Please. That’s bullshit and you know it, and by the way, thank you for finally admitting to kissing her.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”
“If not now, then when are we supposed to talk about it, Oliver? You know I’m not some girl you’re trying to impress, and you definitely don’t need to make any excuses to please me, like that little brown-haired girl you keep bringing back to my house. I don’t really like her by the way.”
“God,” I complained. “You sound just like Laney.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should start listening to that friend of yours. She knows a lot more than you think. Anyway, this is beside the point. If you are so over Abby, why do you still have so many pictures of her hanging in your room?”
“Because it’s my room. I can hang in it whatever I want. Can’t I? I like it the way it is –”
“Yet you refuse to sleep in it.”
“Fine.” I shouted a little too harshly. “I’ll take them down if it’s what you want. See if I care?”
I do care, a lot. It’s the only thing I have left of her.
“It’s not what I want, Oliver,” she shouted back. “What I want is to go back home. When I die, I want to be buried with your dad, and then, I want you to go knock on the Evens’ door and face your fears. I want you to look at Abbygail in the eyes and have the talk you two were supposed to have six years ago.”
That’s never going to happen…
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man, and yes, it’s going to happen.”
Wait. Did I say that out loud? I’m pretty sure I didn’t open my mouth…
“You didn’t say anything. I can read your face.” She pointed a finger at her own. “Mother… remember?”
I chuckled.
“Honey, I know she’s somewhere down there in your heart and that once in a while she resurfaces in your mind. You refuse to face it because it hurts. You loved her so much, Oliver…”
I stood up and leaned on the gazebo fence. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, yet I had no choice but to let my mother say what she needed to say, because I knew I could count on one hand the remaining conversations I would be able to have with her.
“Both of your lives changed the second you left each other’s side, and both of you lost a part of your soul along with it. It’s time, Oliver. Go home.”
My head shook in denial with huge tears of suppressed pain streaming down my face.
How can something that happened so many years ago still affect me like this? It doesn’t make any sense.
“Oliver?” My refusal to look at her made her voice soften. “Oliver, I know it’s hard, but once you see her, you’ll start to heal and unlock your heart.”
“Yeah… to pain,” I mumbled.
“Maybe, but you may also see that it can unveil much more. Like friendship or affection, desire, passion… love?”
I turned to face her. “Come on, Mom. Love? Six years. Remember?” I shook my head at her delusions. “Six years without seeing her, and you think we’ll fall back in love?”
“Actually, yes, I do,” she admitted. “Oliver, what you two had was different and specia
l. Somewhere deep down, you know I’m right.”
“No, I don’t. What I know is that you are getting way ahead of yourself and living in Lala Land. I’m not doing this,” I argued, crossing my arms over my chest like a four-year-old.
I knew I was being immature, but my mother just couldn’t understand how much even this simple conversation was hard for me. The last thing I wanted was to fight with her, but whenever Abby was concerned, I just couldn’t help the feelings creeping up on me.
“Oliver, this is the only thing I ask of you. I just want you to talk to her. ”
I groaned.
I could tell she was getting impatient with my juvenile attitude. “Don’t you think it’s time for both of you to at least sit and try to talk? You spent sixteen years of your lives being completely inseparable, for heaven’s sake. I’m asking you to try having a simple conversation with her, and you’re acting like this is the worst torture ever. SHE WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND.”
“You don’t understand–”
“Of course, I do. You hurt her, and you’re still living with the same regret six years later. Tell me, son, if you never face her, how will you ever be able to make things right? How will you ever be able to forgive yourself? How will she ever be able to forgive herself for hurting you?”
Not my problem.
“Mom, the last thing Abbygail said to me was that she hated me. And the last thing she wrote to me, was that she never wanted to see me again. I gave her exactly what she wanted. I stepped out of her life exactly like she wanted me to.” I paused, frustrated. “You have no idea what happened between the both of us.”
“You think I don’t know? I’ve seen you, I’ve seen her, and guess what, Oliver? Your Aunt Jenna, is still my best friend. Just because your friendship was destroyed, doesn’t me ours was.”
Ouch?
“We talk… you are the one who doesn’t have a clue, Oliver.” She suddenly stopped. I could tell she’d refrained herself from saying anything more. I raised my eyebrow curiously, but she folded her arms over her chest, imitating my posture. “Aren’t you a little curious to see what she looks like? What she made of herself?”
No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 18