Living in Sin (On Hold)

49 - Hope Springs Eternal

"No promises. I'm an adventurer."

"Right," she scoffed and waved off. "I gotta split. Got a date, which I'm supposed to be at like an hour ago."

My somewhat brightened mood dampening as I watched the door pulling slowly to a close, I turned around. This was a night to remember. Out of every single time I'd come here in the past two years, tonight would be the first time that I didn't find comfort in her presence.

But that was just the thing.

It wasn't comfort I'd come looking for in the first place. What I needed was answers, and I was painfully aware that I'd run away from the one person that could give them.

"It's not that I ...," I trailed off, unable to work out what I'd wanted to say, feeling the warmth of her hand in mine and imagining that she was for once not just lying there but actually hearing me. "... I'm not even sure how this happened. She's never really done anything for me. I just ... I just need her. I don't really know how to explain this but I just need her, Mom."

I let go of her hand, braced my elbows on the bed and face-palmed.

"Everyone would just laugh if I tell them that I can't live without her. But you wouldn't, right? You wouldn't 'cause you'd know that's what I'm feeling right now. Yes, whatever dad would never understand of me, you would" The pain in my shoulder reared its head again when I picked up the boots and my bad ankle made me wince when I stood up without care. "You would. ... ... I just wish you were here, 'cause I don't know what to do. I don't know, but mom, I'm gonna go home. Face them, and face her. it's the only way."

But those feelings of physical agnoy had nothing to do with the sighs that got breathed out of my mouth when I turned around to leave, and when I whispered the words - this promise - it wasn't as much to mom as it was to my own self.

"And whatever happens next, it's not gonna be me who gets left behind with a hole in her chest. Not this time around."

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Actually, it didn't burst open. Betty took enough care to not even make so much as squeak, but it startled me all the same.

"Forgot my purse. Sorry."

"Hey, Betty." I called out as something crucial popped into my mind just before she turned around to leave. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"No worries. You're not the only one who talks to Marilyn like this, okay? I'm not telling anyone."

"No, no." I chuckled and went on to ask the real favor. "You wouldn't happen to have some extra money in that fanny pack, would you?"

---

"Hey, you got the time?"

I handed the money over and shuffled out of the cab, all the while beating myself up for not finding some socks. These boots felt like I was walking around in an ant farm, and that's putting it mildly. I leaned over by the front window to ask the time again when I saw him reach his hand out.

"No, keep it."

"Thanks, it's-uhh, five past eight."

"Cool. Have a good night."

I stood up and blew out a deep breath to prepare myself for the sight that awaited me - the sight of home: unlit, empty. Unwelcoming.

I shook my head, and started walking. Betty'd insisted that I had my hand bandaged and forced it to happen but it was unnecessary, to be honest. The pain in my shoulder also felt like I could sleep it off, but as I limped across the lawn, I started to get worried I could still make the first team against the McClymonds with this ankle, which was the only thing I should've had looked at.