My Benefactor

My Benefactor - Chapter Thirty Four

My Benefactor

Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved

Chapter Thirty Four

Reagan's Point Of View

The last time I've seen my mother was a few months ago, when Bryson, Ciara and I went to have dinner at that expensive restaurant.

      She wasn't alone at that time, and my chest tightened as if someone had a steely grip on it, seeing at the sight of her new-found happiness. She was with her new husband (whatever his name is, and I wouldn't care less if he was now my step-dad) and - swallowing a huge lump that lodge up my throat - cradling a baby boy in her arms.

      My half blood kin.
 
      That thought alone had me fuming, that pent up rage of remembering the abandonment, the lies, for turning the blind eye of the abuse and that bitter taste of resentment slowly edging at the tip of my tongue as I watched her walk towards my bed.

      As I fixed her a cold gaze, I had to admit that she looked better. Her once dull caramel colored hair was now shiny and vibrant, her soft facial features were beaming with sickening joy. Today she had on jeans, a ruffle collared blouse and had put on minimal makeup. 

      Heaven forbid she almost blinded me with her radiance.

      "Happy Birthday, Reagan," she greeted brightly. I noticed that she was carrying a paper bag - probably a gift - and if giving me a gift would soften me up, I don't think so.

      "Why are you here?" I asked her, lacing my tone with pure ice.

      She smiled warmly, unfazed with my icy tone. 

      "For your birthday, of course."

      How could she smile so warmly after what she has done to me? To her own daughter who cried, pleaded and longed for her a thousand times through her pained eyes to deliver salvation, and here she is, smiling like nothing had happened between us.

      Was she that callous that even though two years had passed, I'd forget about it? Did she think forgive and forget applies to where we stand?

      If she does, then, she's wrong. When someone goes through a lot of shit like I did it's not easy to put it past the hurt and the pain.

      Nothing is never easy.

      I snorted. "Uhuh, yeah right. Whopti-freaking-do."

      "Ma cherie," Derek warned sternly, shooting me a gaze that meant 'don't try anything stupid'. "Don't talk to your mother like that."

      'Is he for real?!' I thought in disbelief. Derek knew the deal between my mom and I and I hadn't forgotten his wise words about forgiveness and all that bullshit. If he expects me to break out a happy smile and run like the wind towards my mother's arm, he's crazy.

      'Yes, I am for real, Reagan, and no I am not crazy,' he said into my head. 'Now stop acting like a brat and talk civilly to your mother.'

      'Get the fuck out of my head, Derek,' I spat angrily into his mind. 

      'Your mind is like an opened book right now,' he said.'You didn't put up defenses, so it was easy to get in and read your thoughts.'

      He added, 'And watch your language, young lady.'

      "You can't tell me what to do, Derek," I said to him, ignoring his last statement in my head as anger seeped into my voice. "You are not my father and that woman." I pointed a finger at my mother, "just stood by and watch as that bastard brought hell into my life in a form of a slaps, kicks and punches."

      He sighed heavily. "Reagan, baby, just set your resentment aside and talk to your mother," he reasoned. "You need this, and bloody hell! you need your mother."

      "But I don't need her!" I roared, getting out of my bed and distanced myself from them. 

      "I have Luke, who is my dad," when I emphasized the word dad, my mom flinched. 'Good,' I thought. I was not in the mood for sugar coating. "And he is all I'll ever need. She has a new family and I'm useless to her now." 

      At this point, my breathing was ragged, my emotions going on a downward spiral. It felt like I was falling into an abyss of chaos and turmoil and right now, one particular thought remained still in my head: 

      What possessed Derek to think this would be good for me?!

      As seconds, minutes of tense silence passed, my mother finally spoke with so much pain, and to be honest, my knees almost wobbled.