She's the Boss

15

WHILE ADDISON IS at school, I visit his mother.

Laylani.

She has a twisted hold on me, even now. Even after everything, there is not a thing I wouldn't do for her.

As soon as she sees me, she ignores my presence. But I've got questions, and she's got answers.

"You never did tell me why you left. Or why didn't come back."

No further words were offered from me. What's there to say?

The air heats and her whiskey eyes flare in that familiar way, and I know this is going end in a fight.

"We talked about this," she dismisses me easily.

Not again.

"No. We didn't. I asked a question, you didn't answer it.”

For first time today, her eyes meet mine.

"Sebastian," I nearly flinch.

Then I feel a goddamn puppy, flinching at my own name because she never called me that.

Unless she was angry.

I feel rebuked by my master and I have no idea how I feel about that.

"I owe you nothing. No answers, no relationship, no nothing," she states nonchalantly, thumbing a magazine.

Whiskey eyes are gone now, not intoxicating me to silence.

"No, you don't. But this isn't about you. This is about my—"

"Your what?" Fury ignites, setting fire to the air. I watch it dance and decide to tango with the flames.

"Cause you don't have a son. I gave you a chance to have a son, and you spat it back in face by disrespecting me and him."

But fire burns boy. Fire burns.

"I know."

"No, see I don't think you do. I put up with your bullshit, and for the most part, I didn't say anything. But that didn't mean that s**t didn't hurt."

I know, I want to say. But do I?

I don't because I didn't listen to her. I could repeat to you verbatim the arguments we used to have, they were all the same.

No, I heard her. But I didn't listen.

"Your son, he's not normal. I doubt he ever will be. He's at least fifteen in his mind; the way he thinks, the way he talks. The way he listens."

"When we left, he asked me if we were leaving you. I said yeah. And he told me, good, because all he does is make you cry," her voice breaks and my heart cracks.

Look at what you've done. Don't avert your eyes now, look at you've done.

"Do you even understand how humiliating that is?" Before I can answer she cuts me off with a scoff.

"Of course not. Anyway, I told him that that wasn't nice. He said: Sometimes the truth isn't nice Mamma but it doesn't make any less true,"

I watch her break down, and for first time I listen. Not just to her words, but every crack I put in her heart. Every wound.

Guilt rushes to my side, an old friend, to accompany me.

"What six year old knows that? What six year old has to know that? I ask him how he got so smart. He said, from watching,"

Contempt fills her tone I can't help to agree.

In the back of mind, I see us arguing, and I see Addison peak around the corner.

Shit.

"I told him you loved him, and he told me you didn't,"

That murmurs in my head like a prayer.

"He said that if you loved him I wouldn't cry in the laundry room and he wouldn't be bastard,"

Air escapes my lung at the words, forming a punch straight through me.

My mouth won't speak, and it's better for it.

I suppose it knows that.

"But you do and I am so he doesn't love me. That's what he said," It's palpable, the disgust and disdain.

I'm not offended.

Hell, I'm just surprised she hasn't killed me.

I would've, if I were her, I think. I would've.

"My son...thinks he's bastard. He thinks I don't love him.”

I'm sucked from the room, and I can't tell what's up and what's down.

"Of course he does. He heard it on T.V. For five years," Her, Laylani who, incidentally still smells like Peaches and Mischief, filters through.

Just her. Her scent, her voice, her justified hatred.

"To top it off, he also heard about your many achievements; how rich you were. How charitable. I guess he knew you could've stopped it,"

And then I don't even hear her, I'm sucked back.

Time's slowed down, allowing me to grasp what I let slip. See what I ignored, putting all my sins on reverse, though I can never change them.

Time, you heartless b***h.

I didn't want to be a puppy, but I knew that I was, I tried to divert my attention from the only woman who can command me, allowing myself to get drunk on illusions, until I didn't even see her anymore.

This was maybe three years after she came back.

Dominique heard about Addison and she took it to the press, slewing Laylani any and every way possible.

It got worse every time I told her I still wouldn't f**k her.

This particular night, it was a Friday night. Laylani had disappeared somewhere, and Addison was no where to found.

I heard a TV in his room; I put there even though his mother told me not to.

I heard it, the reports. They called my son every name in the book, and I think that's when he lost all respect for me.

Looking back, I think that was the time I lost all respect for myself.

The next morning, before Laylani got up, before I could slip off to work, Addison came up to me.

He didn't look at me as he said:

"Please take the TV out my room, Dad."

Then he prattled away.

He about three going on four at the time, and I was still Daddy.

Until that day.

Then I was Dad.

Then I was Father.

Just like your daddy, Sebastian, my conscious sneered.

I didn't need a sarcastic conscious for that; just a mirror.

Just a broken woman, a traumatized son. Throw in a murder suicide, and I'd hit the jackpot.

All at once I'm back here, the air stifling but befitting.

I approach her bedside, pretending not to see her pointed glares.

Before she can think, I lean down and kiss her sweet mouth.

Peaches and Mischief.

Hm, my favorite flavor.

Just a taste; that's all I'm allowed.

Just a taste; just like all those years ago.

Why make me crave her, only to tell me I can't have her?

Why get me addicted to her only refuse to let me have my fix of her?

The hole inside throbbed angrily; I imagine it's red.

And god she soothes it, I need my fix of her.

I need her, to the death of me.

When I tasted her, when her sweet p***y clamped around me, nearly bringing me to my knees, when I laid on her breasts, slid inside her, made love to her—

It was done. A done deal.

No one could compare to her, and I didn't try to.

I tried to pretend they could compensate; but I didn't even believe me.

I look up at the woman I hurt, the woman who had a hold on me, the woman I fell for everyday, and I promised her something.

"I will do better. I will be better. You deserve better."

Chapter Word Count: 1,252

Current Total Word Count: 10,617

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