Better Things ✓

Chapter 44: unexpected guest

"I'm your mother," she informed me with a guilt-ridden face in my direction.

She looked ready for me to sob or shout–throw a tantrum at her feet, or go hugging her instantly.

But I sat there. Wearing no expression on my face, a trick I'd learned from so many foster homes.

••••••••••••

Judging by the reactions of the people she appeared to be with, my oh-so-lovely mother hadn't told her new family about me.

The older gentleman was gaping like a fish. He stared, wide-eyed, at my 'mother' as she spoke out.

The children– two girls–stared at their mother and I with distinct expressions plastered all over their faces.

The older girl looked to be my age, maybe older. She had short, light blonde hair. She was pale with a light blush tinting her cheeks. She was heavier-set than me, but looked toned and gorgeous, overall.

The girl was around 6. She was short, with a cute princess dress adoring her small figure. Her hair was long–like down to her butt long–and dark brown. She had cute little freckles and dimples. Her face was the epitome of confusion, trying to grasp the emotions of her parents and sister. Her big green eyes, identical to her–our, mother, stared at me in wonder.

I tried to look impassive towards the woman in front of me, but wanted nothing more than to cry in Xavier's arms while he held me.

I but my lip so hard that a copper taste overloaded my tastebuds. My hands were twisted anxiously behind my back while I tried to keep my composure.

I knew that Xavier could tell I was nervous. He moved towards me and stood behind me with his big arms acting as a barrier towards my 'mother'.

I cleared my throat, making it feel like I was swallowing sandpaper.

"Lauren," I addressed her with my solid bitch-face on.

"Oh, my baby!" She gushed with tears on her face. She moved towards me, attempting to hug me, but I pushed myself backwards into Xavier's chest more. I put my hand out to stop her from trying to get near me again.

"Baby, you don't want to hug your mommy?" She asked with a hurt expression masking her face. I couldn't care less.

I scoffed at her confused and hurt face.

"You're not my mother. You left Daddy years ago. He raised me–him and Mikey. You never earned the title of mother, Lauren," I spoke in a dismissive tone, resisting the urge to shoo her away like a cat.

"I gave birth to you, Delaney Taylor! I deserve some respect, young lady!" She screeched hysterically.

"You left. You left me and Dad. He was always enough for me, so I won't disrespect the best parent I've ever had–one who gave me the best life he possibly could–by crawling back to the bitch who left him. Especially given that your child seems to be my age. Not to mention the look your husband is giving you."

She turned quickly, looking towards the man with a panicked expression.

"Paul, please let me explain. It's not what it looks like," she pleaded.