Page 184 of Always Love You More

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “It’s nothing I haven’t …” I clear my throat. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Anger flashes across her face, but instead of arguing with me, she just nods.

I’m not sure how long passes before my mother finally quiets down, her ranting turning into a low sob.

I blink my eyes closed and suck in a breath before I turn, pushing open the door.

My mother looks over at me from her spot curled up against the wall. Her eyes are filled with tears, her knees pulled into herchest. “Jameson,” she cries, her voice cracking. “Jameson, I’m …”

Slowly, I step into the room, taking in the mess she’s made of the space.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out. “I’m horrible. I’m …”

“It’s okay,” I mutter, not sure if even I believe my words. “You just need to sleep it off.”

She looks up at me, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” I cut her off. “You never do.”

She flinches, pulling her knees in even tighter.

“Do you need help getting into bed?”

Her eyes drift past me as Sam walks into the room, a dustpan in hand. Shame colors my mother’s face as she watches her begin to sweep up a shattered picture frame.

A silent tear falls down her face, and she bats it away as if she wasn’t just hysterical a few minutes ago. “No,” she says, answering my question. “No, I’m fine.”

I nod, stepping back, giving her room to stand.

My eyes meet Sam’s, and she tilts her head toward the door. I nod back before she walks out, giving us space.

My mother stands and shuffles over to the bed. She lets out a muttered curse, the springs creaking below her as she climbs in.

Moving around the room, I begin to put the space back together, if only just a little bit, as if erasing the evidence of what just happened will mean it never did.

Turning with a pile of clothes in my hands, I still when I find her passed out on top of the covers. Setting the clothes down, I move toward her slowly.

Her hair is fanned out in a tangled mess, her arms crossed awkwardly. I grab the throw blanket from the end of the bed, cover her, then click off the lamp on the nightstand.

Moving into the hall, I eye the shopping bags scattered on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. Tucking the items back inside, I gather the bags, bringing them into the kitchen.

Sam turns when she hears me come in, shutting off the sink and placing a clean bowl on the counter to dry. Her gaze drops to the bags before she drags it back up to meet mine. “She out?”

I nod.

She watches me wearily, trying to gauge what state I’m in.

“I talked to Cathleen,” she says as I drop into a chair at the kitchen table. “She’s not working tonight, so if you want me to stay—”

“Yes,” I say, looking up at her. “Please.”

She comes up behind me, draping her arms over my shoulders and down to my chest. “What do you need right now?”

“You,” I answer immediately. “Just you.”

Pulling back, she walks around the chair and drops into my lap. “I’m here. Whatever you need.” Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “Always.”

Chapter 43