32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Liam

T he second I walk through the door, all of the nurses turn to look at me, only to quickly glance away, as if looking at me would set off some nuclear bomb. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel like shit for yelling at Pri the other week.

As much as I wanted to be at Sage's party, her brothers were there, and I wasn't going to make her choose who she invited. My mom needed me to come see her, so in a way, it worked out that I couldn't go, but I wish I could be there to celebrate her accomplishments.

Capri gives me a single nod before walking right past me, and I fight every urge in me to not walk away, but I follow after her instead.

"How's she doing?" "A lot better. She had a full one-eighty from this morning." She busies herself with preparing a plate for someone, but she's clearly trying not to look at me. "My apologies for not updating you."

I roll my eyes at how formal she's being. "Don't worry about it."

She doesn't reply, and I lean against the counter beside her. "You a waiter now, too?"

She adds more food to the plate but doesn't spare a singular glance at me.

"No smart response?" I tease, trying to get something out of her, but she doesn't budge.

"My smart responses are unprofessional. You won't have to worry about them anymore." She moves to the fridge and I shake my head at her.

"Can you stop this weird monotone robot shit?"

"What do you mean?" She keeps her eyes in the fridge, and I look into the living room to find two other nurses watching us.

"You never replied to the email of my referrals. Do you mind letting me know when exactly your mother's new nurse will be assigned because I need to look for other jobs and–"

"You don't need to look for other jobs. You're her nurse." I keep my glare on the nosy girls in the living room, and after a few seconds, they turn away. When I look back at Capri, she's already watching me.

"Okay." That's all I get as she grabs the plate and cup of juice, but I step in her way before she walks off.

"Are you really going to make me do this?"

"Yes." She answers so damn fast, but I shouldn't be surprised. She shakes her head to move her auburn bangs from her face, and she looks mad, but I can see the hurt behind her eyes, and all that rings in my damn head is Sage reminding me to be nicer to people.

"Sorry." I glance off to the side, but in my peripheral, I can see Capri shaking her head.

"Okay." She goes to walk off again, but I let out a sigh before blocking her path.

I feel like my throat is closing as I try to find the words, and I don't know why apologizing is so damn hard for me, but this is torture.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you, Pri. I know you were trying to help, and I lost my temper… again, but I shouldn't have."

She keeps her gaze on me, and I swear her freckles pop out more when she's upset, but she better not give me a hard time because, frankly, that's the best she's getting from me today.

"Your mom talks about that temper of yours quite a lot, but I never believed her until I was on the receiving end of it."

"Would you believe me if I said I was working on it?"

"No," She counters, and I shake my head at her.

"I won't yell at you again." I really have been working on my anger. The stupid breathing exercises don't work all that great, but I can try not to yell for a while. She keeps her eyes on me like she genuinely doesn't believe me, and I hate how hard she's making this, but I know I deserve it.

"You're my mom's primary care provider. You spend more time with her than I do and practically live here with her. We shouldn't be on bad terms."

When she lets out a sigh, I know I won a part of her over. "I might start charging you extra for having to deal with your asshole attitude."

"Send me the bill." I give her a shrug as I walk into the living room, and she laughs softly behind me, but I wasn't joking. If I knew she'd accept cash apologies, I would've come in here with a check instead of torturing myself with sorries.

My mom isn't in her usual seat in the living room, and it's dark out, so I'm sure she isn't by the pond. I head for her room but stop short when I hear a piano playing. I peek into the music room, and there she is, playing Beethoven with her eyes closed.

She gets to the end of the song, and I walk over to the piano. She still has her eyes closed, and I place my hands over the keys before transitioning to her favorite song. I'm sure she was going to play it next since she always played it after this song, claiming the end of this one flows perfectly into the one I play now.

I keep my eyes focused on the keys, and I haven't played a piano in years, but it's muscle memory for this song.

"Wow, who taught you to play so beautifully?"

I miss a key, and it throws off my entire rhythm, so I just stop. When I look over, she's watching me with a warm smile, but I know that look in her eyes, and I wish I hadn't come to check on her.

"You did." I remind her, but she only looks confused, and a pit grows in my stomach. At least once a week, she forgets me, without fail, but every time my mom looks at me like she really can't recognize me, I get sick all over again.

"Were you a student of mine?" She turns her head to the side like the angle will make her recognize me, but it's clear no bells ring. She never had a job but taught kids to play piano in her free time simply because she loved it. "Sorry, you're all grown up now. I barely recognize you."

"It's me. Liam." I watch her, desperate for her to remember me, but she only gives me a small smile.

"Right, how have you been?" She laughs softly, and I know she's just pretending to remember, but I appreciate the effort. I just wish I hadn't seen through her act.

She turns back to the piano and plays something I don't recognize, but I don't say anything as I sit beside her and watch her play. All I can think about as the melody fills the room is my childhood. She would sit at the piano for hours as I sat there on the rocking chair, watching her play with Shanti in my arms.

My focus shifts to Sage, as it has been the last few days. I keep asking her if we're broken up, and she keeps saying we're not, and she's just upset that I lied, but it sure does feel like we're broken up. She's distant, and I know when she talks to her brothers and they tell her just how much they hate me, it's over. I'm done lying to her. I told her they didn't like me, but she wants to hear it from them. After seeing her looking out my window at August like he was her fucking world, like he rotates the damn earth for her, it made me hate him more, and I know it's stupid, but I hate their bond.

She talks about her brothers all the time, and if she didn't love them so damn much, my life would be easier, but they're her brothers, and I need to figure out what the hell I'm going to do.

"Oh, don't cry, honey."

I look up as my mom rubs my back, and when she sees I'm not crying, she looks a bit embarrassed but still smiles at me sheepishly. "Trouble in paradise?" She offers me a warmer smile and I let out a sigh before leaning against the piano.

"Sorta."

She smiles at me before pressing a few random keys.

"When did your late husband tell you he loved you?" I keep my tone light as I watch her closely in case the mention of him sets her off, but she surprisingly remains calm, and I let out a breath.

"A couple of months into our relationship." She smiles at the reminder, and it's rare that she speaks well of this man, so I listen closely. "We were on a carnival date. I kept nagging him about wanting to go on the Ferris wheel, but he was afraid of heights."

She laughs softly, and I smile at the thought of my dad being afraid of anything. My dad was good to us when he wasn't angry. My mom was good at keeping his temper in line, and honestly, I think she believed she could fix him or something, but he would just have these erratic episodes whenever something pissed him off. When I feel myself growing that mad, I remind myself that I swore not to be like him, and it's the only thing that calms me from tearing apart rooms the way he did.

"He gave in after I begged, and when we were at the top, it stopped, as it normally does." She peeks a glance at me. "He didn't know that bit." She laughs again, and if I could wish for anything on this earth, I'd wish he was always that romantic man she fell in love with.

"He squeezed my hands with his eyes shut and said, ‘You are so fucking lucky I love you,' and it was like my world stopped." She lets out a long breath before looking at the piano, and a sad look casts over her.

"Then he killed our baby."

I feel my blood run cold, and she stares at the piano keys like she's going to rip them apart.

"Mom–"

"My son has his temper." She turns to me, but it's almost like she sees right through me, and my heart sinks at her words.

"He tears apart his room when he's angry, just like his father did at that age." She shakes her head like she's so fucking disappointed. I haven't been that angry in a while. I resort to punching bags now, mainly because I got tired of having to clean my room after an episode.

"I pray every night that his temper never forms into the monster within his dad."

"It won't." I don't even recognize my own voice, and I have to look away from her lost eyes. I'm not sure how long we sit there, but she plays a few more songs as I drown in my thoughts.

When I run a hand through my hair, my mom looks back over at me with a smile on her face.

"What's wrong?"

Everything.

I shake my head in response and try to muster up a smile for her, but my face doesn't budge. She keeps her eyes on me like she's waiting for an answer, and because I still wish I could turn back the clock and go back to the age where she was able to solve my biggest issues, I tell her about Sage.

"Sweetie," She gives me a knowing look. "You shouldn't have lied."

"I know that, Mom."

Her brows furrow as she gives me a once-over.

"I'm not your mom." She shakes her head again, and she watches me. "Please don't call me that." She looks like she's getting upset, so I don't push her.

"Sorry, you just remind me so much of her." I swallow the lump in my throat as I try to distract her. "Do you have any advice?"

She turns back to the piano as she thinks or tries to remember something, but she never answers.