Mummy Dearest

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Another chapter for you guys because the last one was too short. I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter will be even more thrilling. 

Happy reading!

*****

Lacey P.O.V

"Mum, I'm not sharing a room with Richard. We're not together anymore, remember?"

I hated visiting my mother. It was the same thing every time. She would force me to spend the night and force me to sleep in the same room with Richard. Before, I wouldn't have put up much of a fight, but I've had enough. She was my mum, and I loved her, but she needed to understand that I was not getting back with Richard. Whatever we had between us was over.

"Lacey, Richard is still your husband. You two are not divorced, so it's only natural that you share a room. And besides, there's no other spare room."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. We've been over this before, but no matter how much I tell her that being married doesn't always mean being together, she never seemed to get it.

"Mum, we're separated."

She slammed the book that she was reading on the table, rattling it. Her blue crystal paperweight and silver letter cutter fell to the floor, landing on her cream rug. Looking at it made me sigh. I knew that I'd have a problem with it getting dirty because my kids loved to sit on the rug because of how soft it is. Every time we visit, I'm always left to clean a stain that the kids made on the rug.

"I don't understand why you're being so stubborn, Lacey, after all that this family has done for you. Richard loves you; he would do anything for you. Why would you want to end something so great?"

Her words hurt and angered me. I hated that she was using my adoption to try and guilt me into staying in a relationship with Richard. I was happy that she took me in and give me a family. I could never repay her for that. However, trapping me in a relationship that I didn't want was just too cruel.

"Mum, you're being unfair. I give Richard most of my life and it didn't work out. I tried to make it work with him even when I didn't want to. But I can't be with him anymore. He's abusive, mum. He hits me."

She snorted, sitting back in her favourite chair, folding her arms.

"You're too sensitive. Richard gets angry sometimes, it's your job as his wife to make his life easier when he gets home. If you were fulfilling your duties as a wife, maybe he wouldn't have to hit you."

I gasped at her words. I couldn't believe that she was blaming me for her son's evil ways. She was looking at me like I should be grateful that her perverted son chose me as his f**k toy. I was upset and disappointed in her. But most of all, I was pissed off. In an instant, my head was flooded with images of all the hateful things I read in my diary, and before I knew it, I was yelling.

"So, it's my fault that your son is a woman beater?! Then I guess it's also my fault that he raped me when I was ten?!"

Her eyes widened in shock and a hint of fear, but I was too far gone to stop. I had a lot that I wanted to say to her, and I wasn't going to stop until I said it all.

"You call yourself a good mother, but what good mother would adopt a child so that her son could f**k her?! You took my innocence from me! You robbed me of my childhood! You are the reason Richard is f**ked up!"

The shock and fear in her eyes were replaced by anger. She narrowed her eyes at me as she rose from the chair. Her eyes levelled with mine.

I opened my mouth to continue, but I never got the chance. She raised her hand and slapped me hard, splitting my bottom lip.

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