Page 30 of Falling for My Son's Best Friend
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Marie
Robbie came down into the kitchen while I stirred my tea, using a little more sugar than usual. I needed the sugar, needed the high, given how terrible I’d been feeling lately.
“You okay, Mom?” he asked off-handedly, opening the fridge and peering inside. Pulling out a carton of juice, he took a swig before putting it back. “Mm, this shit is good.”
I mock frowned at him.
“Robbie, you know you’re not supposed to drink from the carton,” I scolded lightly, my heart not in it. “The juice’ll spoil that much faster.”
He nodded, already moving to the front door, hand outstretched to the knob.
“Sure Ma, no worries, next time I won’t,” he said. But then he paused and spun around, looking at me suddenly, eyeing my make-up less face, the way my hair was caught in a sad ponytail, the curls deflated and worn unlike my usual bouncy brown. “You sure you’re okay Mom?”
The truth was that I wasn’t. I missed Trent desperately. I missed the alpha, I missed Trent’s looming presence, the way he made me feel small, I was positively petite in comparison. Even more, I craved that deep growl, the humor in those blue eyes, the way he held me close to his hardness at night, his long legs tangling with mine. I was in love with my son’s best friend, it’d happened during our sinful week together, and there was no way my son could ever know.
“Yeah I’m fine,” I said in a chirpy tone, pasting a smile on my face. “All good, no worries.”
But Robbie looked at me carefully again. Single moms often have a close relationship with their kids and Robbie was no exception. Even though he was an adolescent male, twenty years old and chasing skirt, still, my son was perceptive, he knew me in and out even when it was uncomfortable. So he cocked his head, eyeing me speculatively, before turning away.
“I know something’s up, Ma, we’ll talk about it when I’m back okay?” he said, fixing me with another look. “Clarisse is waiting at the mall already, so not now, but when I’m back.”
And I flashed him a real smile then. Even if my love life was a wreck, I was happy for my son. I was glad he was out there, getting to know pretty girls, doing what it is that kids do these days, seeing movies, hanging at the mall, hell, even having sex, he was old enough. So I blushed a little, involuntarily, at the thought of my son getting naked with a girl. God, Robbie was so young, and where would they do it? In his car? Her car? I really had no idea.
But that was the thing. Trent was the same age as Robbie, and Trent was old enough, absolutely. My lover was charismatic, magnetic, sure of himself, he had a dream to play ball and was pursuing it with a single-mindedness that I had to respect. So Trent was old enough to handle himself, and my son probably was too. After all, there was no reason to think otherwise either. Robbie was doing well in college, a double-major at that, with every sign that he was succeeding, forging a path for himself in this game called life.
So I smiled at the boy again. Robbie was my other amazing love, just in a different way, the baby I’d raised since birth.
“Go, have fun,” I said gently. “Meet up with your friend, what’s her name again? Clarisse? Sounds exciting,” I smiled.
My son grinned back at me.
“Clarisse is more than exciting, she’s incredible,” he grunted. “But more on that later. When I’m back, Mom. We’ll talk when I’m back,” he said firmly, stepping out.
And I sighed as his car rumbled and then took off down the street. Because I had a shift coming up, I’d taken an afternoon shift at the hospital and this was no way to walk in, gloomy, schleppy, lonely and sad. I worked in the maternity ward, a place filled with joy, moms and their new babies, and I needed to be peppy and happy, a ray of light, not all gloom and doom.
God, what was wrong with me? In the course of a week, I’d done crazy u-turns, one moment joyful, ecstatic, coupling with an insanely gorgeous man, welcoming him into myself over and over, sure I could handle the consequences. But now that it’d ended, I was a mess, it’d been a terrible miscalculation. Plain and simple, I was worse off than when I started, I’d veered between the highest highs and the lowest lows, and had hit rock bottom now. Before, I’d been wallflower Marie, a little shy, a little afraid sure, but still protected, my heart cocooned so that I’d never feel pain. And now that I’d put myself out there, it seared so badly, tearing me apart. I missed Trent so much, mourned his absence, the fact that I’d probably never see him again.
And that thought pitched me over the edge. I might never see my lover again. I might never see the man I adored, I’d never feel his hands on me again, much less look into those clear blue eyes. Crumpling at the kitchen counter, I absolutely lost it, chest heaving, head in my arms, wailing like a siren. God, what a mess! I cried for everything I’d never have, everything that would never come true, there was no fairytale ending to this story.
But at that moment, my cell rang, the buzz insistent. I let it chime for a minute, ignoring it, the table vibrating as a cheery song, ringing insistently. And with a resentful swipe, I picked it up and answered.
“He-hello,” I sobbed, trying to hide my tears. “Hello?”
Angie’s voice rang out, loud and clear.
“Hey girlie,” she sang. “Long time no talk. How’s it hangin’?”
I let out a snort then, half laugh, half sob. It’d been a week since I’d gone to the party, and so much had changed, yet my friend knew nothing. All she knew was that I’d disappeared, probably thinking I’d gone home and gone to bed, the old boring Marie.
So my breath hitched a little.
“Hey, I’m okay,” I lied. “How are you?”
And Angie took off at a million miles an hour.
“Honey, that party was so awesome, did you have fun?” she chirped. “Oh my god, I met so many men, it was incredible, I gave my number out to like ten guys.”