Broken

• Chapter 72 •

"I have a weird feeling about him."

"Hm?" I look up from the fridge after stowing away the leftovers.

"That Ashton kid. I just... I don't understand why we're trusting him," mom shrugs.

I snort. "You're just butt-hurt he likes dad more than he likes you," I tell her as I load the dishwasher.

I glance towards her, nervous to ask, "Um... So what did dad tell you? About Ashton?"

She shrugs, "That you left your phone at the restaurant and we called, he saw our contact pictures and figured it out. But that he was trustworthy and wouldn't tell anyone?"

"That's all?"

She narrows her eyes at me, "Is there anything else?"

I almost collapse in relief. Oh. Thank God that's all he told her.

I shake my head profusely. "No, no. That is what happened. I'm just surprised you're not upset about it," I tell her with a shrug.

She studies me for a while, biting her lip nervously.

"Minty... I um. Listen, I think we need to talk."

My stomach drops. Fuck.

The plate in my hand slips out of my grasp and shatters on the floor. I swear underneath my breath and pick up a broom, "Um? About?" I clear my throat as I clean up the glass particles.

"Well, your dad also told me you have a boyfriend."

I sigh in relief, "Oh. Um, yeah. His name's Adrien. He doesn't know, though."

She nods thoughtfully, "I see..."

My cheeks grow hot as I bend down and bring my hair to one side, throwing away the broken glass pieces. Why is everything so weird and awkward between us? Why can't we just go back in time to when we were actually close?

"Clementine. What is that?"

"What?" I look up to find her staring at my neck. Fucking hell. Not again.

"Minty. What is that?" her eyebrows are slammed down.

I groan, "Nothing. For fuck's sake, nothing."

Pain flashes through her eyes, and I realize maybe I'm hurting her. I don't mean to snap at her, but I'm fucking over this. People finding out... Me having to explain. Maybe I should write a goddamn poster explaining why I have bruises and tape it to my back.

Her eyes water, "Minty... Please don't ice me out. I know I haven't been the best of mothers, but I love you with all my heart and would protect you until my last dying breath. Please talk to me."

Her voice is laced with a desperation that makes my heart ache, "It's really not important... I promise you, I'm okay. I'll tell you once you're feeling better—"

"I am fine! Tell me what happened!" she snaps.

I groan and roll my eyes, giving her quick headlines of what happened. She breaks into tears, "Holy shit."

I cock my eyebrow, "Wow, mom. You swear, now?"

She sniffles a cry, "How can you joke right now? Oh my baby, are you okay?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes again, "I'm fine. I swear. I've had this scenario like a billion times with you, dad, Eric—"

"Your dad knows?" her eyebrows knit together.

Oops.

"Um... Yeah. He figured it out. But I told him not to say anything, so don't be mad at him," I shrug sheepishly.

She looks hurt, and I can't help but feel guilty.

She's silent for a while. "I fucked up bad, didn't I?" her voice cracks.

I frown. "No... Mom, no you didn't. I know you're doing your best, kay? I know you love me. I know how much he scarred you," my voice tones down to a whisper as a cold sensation comes over me.

She shakes her head as tears continue to flow from her eyes. I'm trying my hardest not to freak out. Seeing my mom cry is extremely hurtful. What do I do? Should I get her tissues?

"I—I shouldn't have made you live away from us. I shouldn't—I haven't been there for you. I've been avoiding you for years. It's not even all because I want to hide you from him, which I do. I do. But I—I just can't—" she shuts her eyes tightly and falls to the floor, hands to her face.

She sobs into her hands and I squat down to comfort her, "Hey... Hey. It's okay?"

Her brown eyes meet my blue ones. She almost looks afraid.

"I can't look at you without remembering him," she admits softly.

A sharp pain shoots through my heart. She shakes her head, "Minty... It's not you. It's not you. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are nothing like your father. You're nothing like him."

Hot tears begin pouring out of my eyes. I clench my jaw to keep myself from sobbing. My neck throbs, it's as though a hot poker has been stuck down my throat.

She caresses my cheek with her hand, wiping off fallen tears. "It's just... Your eyes. They're his eyes. I can't help it. I can't get over this," she shakes with fear and sadness.

I press my lips together and bow my head, I know. I know she's in pain. She has been for years.

I let out a shaky breath. "It's okay, mom. Look at me," I lift up her chin so that her eyes are locked on mine.

"Look at me. I'm not him. I'm your daughter. He may be my biological father, but I'm Brandon's daughter. He's gone. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt us anymore," I breathe.

She studies me and slowly nods her head, "I know you are, baby... I'm so sorry."

She pulls me onto her lap, and I'm careful not to touch her injured leg. She cradles me and kisses the top of my head. We stay in each other's arms, and a familiar sensation I didn't think I'd feel again dawns on me.

I'm getting my mom back.