Fighting Pride

by Jennifer Miller

  As soon as I step out of my apartment a half hour later, I’ve barely got my door locked before Ryder’s door swings open down the hall and he peeks his head out. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’d been listening for me. He looks as hung over as I’m sure I did when I woke up and I smile widely, “Wishing we had quit while we were ahead?”

  “Nah, where’s the fun in that? Where you headed? Need company?”

  Now I’m thinking that maybe it isn’t so crazy thinking he was listening for me after all. “No, I’m good. I have an errand to run. Alone.”

  “You sure? It will only take me a few minutes to throw some clothes on,” he says while his hand disappears to scratch, I don’t even want to know what.

  “Dude, are you naked?” He just smiles and I roll my eyes, “I’m fine. Really. Thanks though, man.”

  “This doesn’t have to do with Jerry, right? You aren’t going to see him?”

  “No,” I state firmly. “I have no desire to see Jerry. Maybe not ever again.”

  “Okay. Good. But call me if you need me, alright?”

  “Alright fine. But can I go now, before we start growing girl parts?”

  “Fuck you,” he says, but not before he laughs. When he turns around, his bare ass is there in all it’s glory for anyone to see and I shake my head. Just before he disappears behind his door, he turns back and winks at me over his shoulder. I can’t help but laugh, then groan a little at the ache that doing so creates in my head.

  Getting into my car, I turn my mind to the conversation ahead, not sure how I’m going to approach what I’m about to do. Truth is, I’m still trying to make sense out of a mixture of emotions. At the forefront is still the pain over Tatum’s leaving. I wish she had given me a chance to talk to her more, but maybe I need to have some patience. I’m hopeful she needs a few days and then will somehow contact me. She knows the name of Jax’s gym; it would be easy for her to find me. And if she doesn’t, well, as far as I’m concerned things between us aren’t over. I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I do.

  Putting that aside for now, my thoughts move to Jax’s suggestion last night. He thinks I should threaten to sue Jerry. Tell him he either pays me back the money he defrauded from me, or I’ll let a judge decide our fate, which would potentially alarm Jerry because I could be awarded damages. Jax said I don’t really have to do any of it, but he has some attorney contacts through the gym that can help us scare Jerry, if nothing else. The attorney would draw up some papers and make threatening demands likely through a lot of legal jargon and veiled threats. He doesn’t think I should let him get away with what he’s done.

  I’m honestly not sure what I want to do yet. Does scaring the fuck out of him sound appealing? Hell yes. Does making him have to pay for what he’s done seem like the perfect payback? Of course it does. But, I hesitate because a part of me, and I think a bigger part, is just so damn happy to be rid of him, the thought of drawing any of this out longer makes me want to puke.

  He finally has nothing on me anymore. No hold over me, nothing he can threaten me with, nothing he can do about it either. He can sure as hell try, but he won’t. Jax agrees. Jerry already admitted the contract was crap. While I’ll be fine to never have contact with the man again, there is a small piece of me that wants justice. That feels like he should pay for what he did to me. To my mom. Hell, even to Jax. But, I really do think I’ll be happy to have him in my rearview mirror, nothing more. I do know that whatever I decide, Jax is behind me one hundred percent.

  This brother thing is strange, but he’s the best thing to come out of this by far. We’ll try to maneuver our way through this the best way we know how, but really what he said last night is true – he’s already my brother. In my mind, all the guys are my brothers, we’ve all been together so long. I’m just going to take it one day at a time, I don’t think there’s any other way to deal with it all. Jax has promised to do whatever he can to keep Jerry away from me. He apologized so many times it’s stupid. It isn’t his fault, and I don’t blame him at all. I’m the one that made the deal with Jerry, I’m the one that never said a word about any of it to anyone. The choice was all mine. I told him until I was blue in the face that he’s not responsible for the actions of his, uh our, father, but I don’t think he agrees.

  With a deep breath, I try to move my thoughts to the task before me. I try to play out all the various avenues this could go in my mind, but I simply don’t know what to expect. When I pull into the driveway of my mom’s house, I walk slowly to the front door, dread filling my belly with each step. I consider turning around about a million times, but instead swallow down the sick feeling rising in my throat and keep walking. Knocking on the door a few times, I wait for a few moments, but when she doesn’t answer, I walk inside, knowing her tendency to have the TV or music loud hinders her ability to hear the door. She must not be at the kitchen window, or she would have seen me walk up. When I step inside, I immediately smell bacon and coffee and it makes my stomach rumble. When I reach the kitchen, I find her at the stove, and lean against the doorway to watch her move around the kitchen. I love my mother, but how do I forgive her for being dishonest with me for so many years?

  She’s never been to a fight of mine. Not once. She hates it. Hates the fact I fight, has asked me to quit a million times. We’ve never agreed on the subject, have argued about it non-stop at times, so finally, I quit talking to her about it. She’d ask how things were going out of courtesy, and I’d tell her whatever I thought she wanted to hear. It was easier that way. As supportive as she is of me, she can’t watch someone ‘hit her boy for sport’. I get it – mostly- so we don’t discuss it in depth anymore. Does that mean I’ve never once mentioned all this time that my trainer’s name is Jerry? That she didn’t know that he’s been part of my life all along? I have a hard time wrapping my mind around any of it.

  It takes her a moment to notice my presence and when she does, she jumps slightly and I frown when initially she doesn’t seem too happy to see me. “Mom?”

  “Hello,” she walks to me and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek frowning and sighing at all the bruises on my face. “You broke your nose again?” I just shrug and she shakes her head. “I had a feeling you’d be coming around today.”

  That makes me suspicious. Could she have heard something? “You did? Why?”

  “Just a feeling,” she says without saying more.

  “Do you have time to talk this morning? I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Well, sure honey, we can talk, but now may not be the best time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well-” she hedges.

  I lose my patience, unable to keep it to myself anymore, “Mom, I know that Jerry Stone is my father.”

  The spatula that she’s holding falls to the floor and she spins around to look at me. Her eyes instantly flood with tears and I’m not sure when the last time is that I’ve seen her emotional. “How? When? Are you…oh god,” she sits down at the table and stares off into space. I take a seat at the table and wait for her to come back from wherever her mind has taken her. When she looks at me again, she says, “I promise I will explain.”

  “I think I already know some of it. He blackmailed you. He told you that he wouldn’t help take care of me financially if you told me or anyone else about my parentage. And you agreed.”

  “I did. And I won’t apologize for that,” she states sternly.

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I felt like a whore taking his money,” she whispers and I flinch. “I felt like he was paying me off, but I was willing to swallow my pride over that feeling because all that mattered was being able to take care of you. So, I took his money if it meant that I was able to spend more time with you and less time at work, and if it meant it could help me provide for you in a way I wouldn’t have been able to do otherwise. It was clear that he wasn’t the man I thought he was, and the absence of him in your life wasn’t something that I
regretted one bit. I won’t apologize for it, Cole. I’ve long since made peace with it all.”

  “Well isn’t that great for you, mom. I, on the other hand, am just now finding out that my dead beat father is the man that I made a deal with in order to send Tatum to school and who’s been blackmailing me for the last five years!”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  And so I tell her. Everything. I don’t leave a detail out. She knows how hard things were after Hope died, but I don’t spare any details. I share my raw devastation at Tatum’s leaving, how I lied to her face to get her to go, I tell her about the five long years of working to pay Jerry back, and his treatment of me in the process. I confess to her how I lost part of myself when Tatum left, and that he continued to chip away at me little by little over the years until what was left was someone I hardly recognized anymore. I tell her about running into Tatum, how I feel, my run in with Jerry, how he planned all of this. I spare no details, and she hardly speaks at all, only asking a clarifying question here and there, and we’re only interrupted once by the burning smell of the bacon left in the frying pan. She pops out of her seat, puts the pan in the sink and gets right back to our conversation. She watches me intently, now and then a tear rolls down her cheek. Regret and sorrow on her face.

  “Oh, Cole. I didn’t know. Honest I didn’t. I’d heard you mention your trainer here and there but it never occurred to me it was him. And after a while, when the money stopped coming and you were doing fine and more than capable of taking care of yourself, I let it go. Other than the questions you asked when you were younger, you never seemed interested in knowing more.”

  “I believe your exact words were something along the lines of, ‘he’s an asshole that wants nothing to do with what’s likely the best thing he’s ever done in his life. We don’t need him.’ I had no need for questions after that.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would,” and she smiles and giggles which makes me chuckle too.

  “I don’t think it makes a whole lot of sense for me to be angry at you for not telling me about this, given I’ve lived the last several years of my life keeping secrets from everyone too. That would be hypocritical of me.”

  “You have every right to be upset with me, and I promise in time we will get through this, okay? If you are mad, let yourself be. If you have questions, ask them. I’m sorry, Cole. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. I confess it was just fine with me that you never asked before how I could be with a man like that. The less you knew was more than fine with me. So, I let it go. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.”

  “I do, and I am. And I will for a while. Just placate your mother, okay?”

  “Okay,” I try to smile but don’t quite manage.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  “It’s nothing,” I tell her and then change my mind. Tired of never really saying what I think. Tired of this person I’ve become, “Actually, it’s something. I lost her again, mom. Tatum. And god it fucking hurts.”

  “Don’t cuss in my kitchen.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I have a feeling that you and Tatum will be just fine.”

  “How can you say that?” I ask her.

  “Your mom tends to be pretty smart about these kinds of things,” a voice says from the kitchen doorway and I stand and spin around so fast the kitchen chair falls to the floor.

  “Tatum.” She’s here. Standing in my mom’s kitchen of all places. I’m seeing things. I have to be.

  “Hi, Cole,” she smiles shyly and my mom walks over to her and rubs her upper arm. The familiarity and the look that passes between them makes my heart clench.

  “Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?”

  Tatum nods, “Yes, thank you.”

  “Sleep well?” I ask surprised. “You slept here?”

  “Yes. Your mom let me stay in your old room.”

  “But, I thought…how are you…you didn’t leave yesterday?”

  She shakes her head, “How could I?” she asks and I’m torn between wanting to take her into my arms and never let her go, and demanding she explain herself right the hell now. “Can we…um…do you have time to talk?”

  I nod, and my mom looks between us, and smiles. “Help yourself to whatever you want. I need to run to the grocery store to pick up a few things.” She kisses me on the cheek, and Tatum too, then whispers in her ear. Tatum nods, and then she disappears and a moment later, we hear the front door close.

  Tatum and I are alone, and I find that I’m not sure what to say. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but before I can, she holds up a hand in a silent request for me to remain quiet, “I have a few things I’d like to say.”

  “Okay,” I reply, my throat feeling dry and scratchy.

  “And, I want you to stay quiet until I’m finished. Can you do that?”

  “Okay,” I tell her again.

  “Cole, when you told me about the deal you made with Jerry, and why everything happened between us the way it did my head, god, my head was spinning. At the forefront of my mind was that you made a decision for both of us. That while you claimed it was for me, that really it was all about you finding a way out of the mess that had become our lives.”

  I clench my teeth together, wanting to say something, but knowing I promised her I wouldn’t.

  “I was angry, hurt, and confused. Part of me also felt dismayed because you fooled me. I thought that I got into that school on my own merits, my talent, and so it hurt to find out it was really because a man like Jerry pulled strings to get me in. I felt like my choice was taken away. I felt I had nowhere else to go. My parents were all set to move as soon as my sister graduated high school, moving back with them wasn’t an option. My life, it was supposed to be with you. Since you didn’t want me anymore, taking that scholarship was the only option for me. And so, as you know, I did. I left. I moved on. Or at least I tried.”

  She begins picking her nails, and I’m not even sure she’s aware of it. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth at times, and all I can think is that she’s so fucking adorable it kills me. At times she stops and looks at me in the eyes, but it seems to be easier for her if she doesn’t look at me too often.

  “I buried myself in my school, my work. I sought out a therapist, as you know, and got help dealing with Hope’s loss, and also…the loss of you.” Her voice breaks a little and it makes my stomach clench. “Every day it became easier. I managed to bury my feelings, my past. But the funny thing is, even when I thought I had moved on, my subconscious was telling me through my art that I had done anything but. You’ve seen them. The paintings. Even when I didn’t realize it, you were always there. With me. On my mind. In my heart. Always.” She turns and looks at me, a tear escapes her eye and falls down her cheek and I want to step toward her and wipe it away, but I wait.

  “Cole, you apologized to me. You bared your heart, your soul, told me the truth about everything, and I still…I still…” She stops and more tears fall down her face. I take a step toward her, but she shakes her head, “No. Please. I’m not finished. Cole, I’m the one that needs to beg you for forgiveness.”

  “What? No. Why would you say that?”

  “Because, I never once stopped to think about you in all of this. When we lost Hope, I couldn’t, god, I couldn’t bear it. Living without her hurt. Trying to remember to do day-to-day activities was hard. I was lost in an abyss of darkness, despair, denial at times, and guilt. So. Much. Guilt. It was suffocating at times. But the thing is, if I had just taken one moment to stop and look around me, I wouldn’t have had to bear any of it alone. You were there, right there, every step of the way. What was going on in my mind was awful, yes, but never once did I ever stop to think about you. I never stopped to consider how you were feeling, how you were coping with the loss, what you were thinking. I was so caught up in myself and my own grief, that I never stopped to consider yours. And I’m sorry. God, Cole, I am so fucking sor
ry.”

  “Tatum,” I take another step, but she backs up, so I stop again, but I feel myself getting annoyed. I just want to touch her. Hold her. Wipe the tears from her face.

  “When I agreed to come out here for a showing, I was hesitant at first. I knew it was the week of Hope’s birth and I wasn’t sure I could handle being here. Then I decided that it was actually the perfect place to be. I never expected I’d see you while I was here. I had no plans on trying to reach out, while my anger had long since subsided, my stubbornness was still fully intact,” she smiles a little and I laugh knowing full well how stubborn of a woman she can be.

  “I’m glad that I ended up running into you this week. If nothing else, I will always be grateful for the time we spent together. It’s healed something inside of me that I assumed in my ignorance was long gone. It was hard at first, but I found that the more time I spent with you, the more of myself I found once again. But what I’ve also realized is that I am still totally, irrevocably and undeniably in love with you.”

  I don’t think I could move if I wanted to now. Her words have frozen me to the spot. Her eyes search my face, looking for my response, but I’m incapable of giving her one. Her confession not at all what I expected. That is, until she gets down on her knees.

  “I’m begging you. I will beg you every day for the rest of my life if I have to, to please forgive me. Please forgive me for being so selfish. Please forgive me for being so stubborn. I blame you for not having contact with me in all this time, while I was just as able to pick up a phone if I wanted to. I’m tired of living half a life. I’m tired of being without you. I know you still have feelings for me too, and I’m asking you for the chance to see if we can make this work. I’ve realized this week that what I’ve been missing all this time, the reason I still feel broken, is because you’re carrying the missing pieces of me.”

  I’m on my knees and in front of her in seconds. I have her face in my hands and I’m kissing the hell out of her. I try to convey everything I’m feeling, everything I’m thinking in a kiss. But I know that she needs to hear the words too.