What He Needs

Chapter 28

I sat on the floor for another ten minutes after the call had ended. Mom had just opened the front door when I found the strength to actually stop crying. She walked into the kitchen, along with my dad pausing at the sight of me.

"Winston?!" She quickly dropped her bags and rushed over to me, not caring that I probably smelt like the foulest thing ever. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

My dad set his bags down as well before coming over to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. He rested his hands on my mom's shoulders while looking at me worriedly just the same. He wasn't much of a talker, but that didn't stop him from being supportive.

I sighed before looking at both of my parents in shame.

How do I tell them?

Should I even tell them?

Would they think I'm disgusting?

I do.

"Winston, talk to us, sweetie." Mom said, pulling me from my thoughts.

I can't.

I began to cry again, unable to hold in the painful sobs that raked my chest. Mom cradled me to her chest while silently shooing my father away. I knew it meant that we weren't going to leave this kitchen floor until she got to the bottom of what was happening to me. My dad would've told her to stop pressuring me, but Mom is a stubborn woman, and she didn't want to hear his pestering – not like she'd listen to him if he'd stay.

She's going to hate me.

"It's just you and me now, Winnie." She said before kissing the top of my head. "Momma's here, and I'm not going anywhere."

I felt like a child, but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy her motherly comfort. I wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible, which is why I stayed unresponsive for another twenty minutes.

When I finally had the strength to talk, I could only repeat the one phrase that had been in my head since hearing it from my doctor.

"I have HIV."

I could feel my mother's hold on me tighten, and I wasn't sure if it was because of shock. The next second, she was pushing me out to arm's length. My heart dropped to my stomach as I avoided eye contact with her. I didn't want to see her look of disgust. I wouldn't be able to handle it.

I just knew she'd hate me.

"How?" She asked softly before her voice turned to anger. "Was it Diego? I swear to God if it was Diego-"

"No!" I said quickly in shock, risking a chance to look at her. "No, Mom, it wasn't him."

"Then-"

"I was raped." I whispered, pausing to swallow thickly before continuing. "A few months ago before I moved back in."

My mother didn't respond verbally. I almost assumed she was in a state of shock, but then silent tears began to fall from her eyes. She pulled me back to her chest, tightening her hold on me as she began to sob.

"My baby-" She broke off, crying harder with her cheek pressed to the top of my head. "Why didn't you tell me? You've been carrying all of this hurt for months, and I had no idea."

"I didn't want to burden you any more than I already had."

"Winston, you are my son! It is my purpose as your mother to be there for you whenever need be."

"I wasn't ready to talk about it – I'm still not." I paused again and took a breath. My lungs felt like they were on fire as my whole body filled with shame. "Do you hate me, Mommy?"