𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝘆 | Miles Fairchild x Reader Y/N

Chapter 1: Getaway

I hated life here. I hated it.

Each day was more dreadful than the other. School was as worse as it could get. It's absolutely exhausting in the loud and noisy hallways, especially accompanied by the obnoxiously foul-mouthed teenagers. I didn't find my place here; I had a few friends here and there, sure, but overall it wasn't a place I wanted to be in.

But some days, school was better than home. My Mother, Kate, had just got a divorce from my Father. It had taken a toll on me, of course, but not in the same way it did for her.

I never liked Dad growing up. He was an alcoholic, didn't spend much time with me or Mom, and would often lecture me over his work's importance if I ever brought the issue up.

"God Damn it! Don't you see what I do around here? I provide the food, the electricity, the fucking roof over your head!"

Mother was the complete opposite though. Sometimes I didn't like her, I mean, whenever I'd bring the issue up of my Father's lack of presence in my life, she'd tell me that it was what every father figure was like for every household, but I knew it wasn't. Other than that, she was caring, considerate and always did her duty as well as a Mother could in her situation. She attended every school meeting, event, competition, performance, and so on. Just like I said, the complete opposite of my Father.

But now, I come home to an even more mentally unstable woman. I often have to cook us both dinner since she stays in bed most of the time weeping over the man who had just left her. I never understood what she saw in him; nothing about that man was worth loving.

"Mom? Mom! I'm home," I call out after nudging at the door knob, successfully opening it. I knew she was in bed, like always, but I was just hoping maybe she'd finally get the courage to drag herself out of bed this time and welcome me back home from school like she'd always used to - but as to my expectation, she didn't.

I take off my shoes, lay my bag down on the floor and walk towards her room. But instead of being asleep, or crying into her pillow, she was sitting up in bed with a newspaper in her hand.

"Mom?" I call out at her bedroom door. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Oh, hey y/n!" she looks slightly more upbeat than usual, which catches me to surprise.

"What are you holding?" I point at the newspaper in her hands as I walk closer and closer to her bed, eventually plunging myself down right next to her, looking down at the piece of paper.

"Oh, this?" a smile forms on her face, along with a slight chuckle. "Listen, baby" she sets the newspaper aside and turns her head to me, one of her arms now wrapped around my shoulder.

"I know it's been tough. I know you hate it here. And I know you probably hate me right now. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I just couldn't bring myself to face the fact that your Dad just left the picture like that. And I know, it must hurt you a lot that the man you look up to most walked on us like that, but-" I cut her off.

"I never loved him, Mom. I realize that now. So, if you're really crying over the fact that I don't have a father figure in my life anymore, then know I rather have it be that way than to be neglected like that the way I was my entire life"

She looks at me, a bit taken-aback by my statement. She then leaps in for a hug as she gently moves her hand up and down my arm in an attempt to comfort me. "Baby... Mommy's sorry. So very sorry," I feel her soft weeps into my shoulder. "I knew he wasn't the best dad, he never treated me well. I just thought it's better than having my only child go through the divorce of her own parents" she went on.

"Mom. It's okay"

"I'm sorry. You can be mad at me all you want. And at your father"

"No, Mom. It's okay"