Page 33 of Stroked Hard
I sigh, as it’s the conversation I get at least once a year from my mom. What she doesn’t know is that I have no intention of ever enteringthatinstitution. It is not for me. Ever.
Even if I do feel lonely at times.
“I would love to continue this conversation, but we are going to board soon.”
My mom chuckles. “You’re a liar. You told me you still have two hours.” Damn it, why did she have to pay attention?
“Uh . . . I think I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Fine, but I’m not going to drop this conversation. You deserve someone to take care of you.”
“Just like Dad did?” I shoot back, knowing I’m opening a can of worms I’m not ready to talk about in the airport.
“Your father did the best—”
“Don’t. Do not defend him, Mom. I love you, but I will hang up this phone if you start defending what he did.”
“Honey.”
I can’t hold back. “He left us, Mom. He left you with a six-year-old girl, just after your father died, and started a new life of his own. He started a new family because we weren’t good enough for him. He re-married within months, had the son he always wanted a year later, and forgot about us. He did not do his best, he fucked us over.”
There’s silence on the phone, and I know I’ve gone too far. We don’t talk about him—the man I refer to as a sperm donor. There is no reason to. He left and we moved on, but not before burning a hole into my very fragile and very young heart. As a little girl, you don’t recover from the abandonment of your father. It makes you jaded, insecure, and romantically unstable.
He’s why I’m alone, why I only have sex for pleasure, and why I can’t commit myself to Hollis like he believes I will.
Feeling guilty now, I somberly say, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“It’s fine. I better get going.”
“Wait.” My heart breaks because I know I’ve upset her and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. My mom is the only person I love on this earth, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I upset her. “Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”
“Melony, it’s fine. I know what kind of mood you get in when we talk about him. Let’s just drop it. Let’s plan a lunch soon.”
“Okay.” Tears well in my eyes because even though my mom said she’s dropping it, I still know the tone of her voice isn’t the one I’m used to. She’s still upset.
“Call you later, bella. Love you.”
I swallow my tears so I can get off the phone. “Love you, Mom.” The call ends and I stare down at my phone, chastising myself for letting my emotions get the better of me.
But why the hell was she defending him? He ruined her life, left me without a father, and put us through financial trouble for years. That’s why my mom still has to work every day on her hands and knees cleaning floors.
The cool feeling of my water hits my throat as I sip from my water bottle, trying to control my emotions.
“Ugh.” I shake my hands, trying to rid the stupid feelings running through me. I don’t do emotions and this is why, because once you face them, all they do is cause you pain.
You got this under control, Mel.
Taking another sip, my phone vibrates in my hand. I glance down at the caller ID, hoping it’s my mom but I’m surprised to see someone else’s name.
“Why could you possibly be calling me?”
A deep chuckle vibrates through the phone. Shit, why does it make me feel relaxed? I don’t like that at all.
“That’s not the kind of greeting I was hoping for,” Hollis says.
“And what were you looking for instead?”
“Just your typical, ‘Hey beefcake, I’ve missed you so much. Can I come over and dry hump your cock?’”
