Better Than Me

Chapter 31

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO WRITE! I started my last year of college a few weeks ago so I can't promise fast updates, but I'll do my best to keep updating on a semi-regular basis, time permitting!

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Chapter 31

Unsure of what else to do to get Sophia to stop looking at me like I was the devil incarnate, I went a little overboard with my gift-giving. I knew the gifts weren't enough. I knew she deserved a real apology. But every time I tried to work up the nerve to go in there and show her how sorry I really was, my mind went empty and I ended up back in my or Blake's trailer.

So I bought her some stuff – a lot of stuff. Flowers, chocolate, jewelry, clothes, random things I saw that I thought she'd like – anything and everything. While that probably would have worked on most other girls, it didn't seem to do much of anything when it came to Sophia.

Still, I kept trying. Maybe one of those gifts would hit a nerve and make her soften up to me, at least a little. The kitten had seemed to help, at least.

"Did you like the necklace?" I asked Sophia during one of our lunch breaks a few days after our last non-filmed encounter. She was probably heading home to have lunch with Tori and the kitten. She'd been avoiding having lunch on set whenever possible since our fight.

"It was nice," she said. "But the gifts aren't necessary."

"I want to give them to you. It's nothing."

"Exactly," she said, stopping to face me. "It's nothing. The gifts are nice, but you can't buy my forgiveness, Christian. What I need is time. I just need time to get over this. It's like an old wound was ripped open, and that wound needs to heal. So give it time to heal, okay?"

And how could I argue with that? I'd be a dick if I tried. She was hurting all over again because of me. It'd be selfish to try to mend things over to make myself feel better. "Alright," I said, nodding in defeat. "I understand. I'll give you time." I tried to smile reassuringly at her, but I'm pretty sure it came out more pathetic than anything.

As much as it pained me to leave her alone, possibly leaving her to ruminate in resurfacing anger instead of softening her up to the idea of me, I did it. And as much as I hated to admit it, I needed help. But this wasn't a job for Blake this time. It was a job for my mother – yes, my eclectic but well-meaning mother.

"Oh, my baby boy, come here!" she cried when I showed up on her doorstep after work that same day.

I let her squeeze the life out of me, chuckling as she literally shook with excitement. I saw her pretty often, just not often enough for her liking. If it were up to her, I'd be living right next door, or still living with her.

When she finally pulled away, she smacked my arm. "Now, what did you do?"

I grimaced and nodded towards the inside of her house. "You, uh, you might want to sit down for this."

My mom knew I'd been a bit of an asshole in high school, but she didn't know the extent of it. She didn't know just how badly I'd treated others. She didn't know about how I'd treated the girls I'd slept with, Sophia included. She only knew what I'd been unable to hide when there were complaints from other kids and she was called in to talk to administrators. I was about to get my ass whooped.

I sat down on the couch next to her, leaving a bit of space between us in case I had to make a run for it. She wasn't going to like what came out of my mouth next.

She stared at me expectantly, and, sweating nervously, I blurted out, "Mom, I think I'm in love, but I screwed up and she hates me and I kind of hate myself right now and –" Smack. I looked at her in alarm. "What was that for?"