46. Ember

46

EMBER

I can’t believe that just happened. I walk back into my office, placing the mess of papers on my desk, before plopping down in my chair. My blood pressure is skyrocketing from all the excitement pumping through my veins, and I’m riding a high that I’ve never experienced before.

For someone like Christian Ford to be proud of what I’ve done is a validation I never knew I could experience.

He named his club… after me. Tears pool at the corners of my eyes again, and although I hate the defiance of my own emotions. I smile at their persistence.

I want to scream from the rooftop, but to avoid being a total psycho, I reach for my phone to call Hudson.

The floor swallows me whole when I see my mother’s name, with multiple missed calls and a few text messages.

As usual, her timing is impeccable, always on the sidelines ready to bring me down after I’ve been lifted up.

My thumb hovers over the screen, unable to tap to view. I’m too afraid to see what she has to say. I pause a moment and tell myself that no matter what she says, it doesn’t matter. She can say the worst, most vile words, and it won’t be anything I haven’t heard. Or she can say the kindest, sweetest testimony to attempt to revive our relationship and I won’t believe her.

She berated me all my life, resented me for years , for a choice she made. She hated my existence because of the toxic and dysfunctional relationship it created between her and her husband . I didn’t create that. I did nothing wrong, and she blamed me, taking all her indiscretions out on me.

My entire life.

The more my father despised me, the worse he treated her, I inherited the brunt of.

So, if it doesn’t matter, I should just delete it. Swipe left and delete her messages. Then block her.

But, like her, I suppose I also inherited a glutton for punishment. I tap on the screen, bringing up the messages.

Mom: You are a disgrace to this family.

Mom: Not that I need to tell you, but never return here. Ever. This town needs Robert, and you nearly tarnished his reputation and ruined everything. Luckily, no one other than your brothers saw the chaos you created here. And we’ve taken care of that.

What the hell does that mean? She’s taken care of my brothers. It feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. How can she force them to stay away from me? I guess if they are ashamed of me, too, it’s an easy choice to make.

My vision blurs over the letters on my screen as tears threaten again. The kind only my mother can bring on. Pure emotional loneliness and the feeling of worthlessness begin to slip down my cheek. I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing the waterfall of emotions to shed so I can wash myself of this, of her.

Opening my eyes, the words are still fuzzy but clearer than before, and I see her final text. I give myself a strong, steady breath.

Mom: You are dead to me. To all of us.

And, I’m done.

Taking the choice in my own hands for the first time in my life, I click on her contact name and block her number. The flush of relief is instant.

I should have done that a long fucking time ago.