angel baby (heavy editing)

38

     Oliver opened the front door to perfect silence, not that he was expecting otherwise.  The maids would have gone to their various destinations by this time. Emilia was probably at the neighbors for a sleepover and his dad was probably still at work. The only person he expected to see was his mother. She would probably be painting something or sipping wine. His mother had no friends and that was sad but he couldn't blame her. Being married to Daniel Borghese had its perks and disadvantages. He had heard the countless stories of how his mother and father had gotten together. His father was engaged to marry someone else, someone with almost as much wealth as him but after a near collision on with his then 22 year old mother, their story began from there. Some would say it was love at first sight if anyone believed in that shit.
He walked in further, stopped by his room to freshen up before proceeding to look for his mother. He went to the first likely place she would be: her art room and like he assumed, she was indeed in there painting and sipping wine.
He had to give it to her. His mother was very talented painter. Not just painting, she did everything, finger painting, pencil sketches, realistic portraits. He could see Chris becoming her one day.
Chris.
Fuck.
The whole reason for coming home was to avoid thinking of Chris.
He tapped the first flat surface closest to him to grab her attention. His mother turned and Oliver almost felt guilty at the look of relief in her eyes.
"You're back"
He only nodded and moved side by side.
"Did you enjoy your little adventure?"
Oliver frowned at that. Why did she do this sometimes?
"Oh come on, I'm only joking"
It wasn't funny but Oliver was almost sure she was tipsy bordering on drunk, he wasn't upset with her. He also knew she only drank to get drunk when she was stressed or sad.
Cue the guilt.
"The burial was today, right? I would have shown up but I didn't know if she would want me there"
Oliver didn't know either. Lia was too busy grieving and keeping her broken son in check to check whether a billionaire woman was present or not.
"How is she?" She asked, "and Chris"  she added last minute and Oliver could swear she blushed for a second. He almost rolled his eyes, almost.
"They're holding up"
Which was a lie.
"Your birth son might never recover and Lia could potentially hit rock bottom before her middle age"  was the truth but Oliver wouldn't say that.
His mother only nodded and took another sip of whatever was in her wine cup. It was probably wine. He wanted to tell her to lay off it but he didn't. He had been doing that lately.
"So when you weren't around, I did a lot of thinking", she started to say. Oliver took a seat on one of the many stools in the room. He was more tired than he was letting himself admit.
"And I might have made a silly mistake and  acted impulsively. The arranged marriage thing is very silly and I'm sorry. I should, we should have asked you boys first and it was very silly and insensitive of me to use it as a condition to help a woman in need. There's no excuse for my behavior. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"
Oliver realized he wasn't particular angry about the arranged marriage thing, not that he was willing to marry Chris or anybody else for that matter. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the past few days and the fact that parents rarely apologize to their children but Oliver felt himself nodding. He was really tired.
His mother smiled awkwardly at him. Things between them have been strained recently, not that they were joined by the hip prior but they at least used to communicate better.
"You know I love you, right?" He had to say it. He honestly had to say anything really and those words were first ones he thought about.
She turned to face him and the next second tears welled up in her eyes. Oliver swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I may not show it as I should but I love you, I really do"
And he did. His mother was the person he loved most in the world.
"No one could ever replace you"
"Oh come here, my boy"
He stood and walked towards her. When he was close enough, he was pulled down for a hug. She smelled like paint and home.
"I know I've been spending a lot of time at Lia's"
"On first name basis, aye?" She giggled so maybe she wasn't that upset about it. And he couldn't call her Ms Cameroon, that would be weird as hell.
His mother pulled away first.
"Before the occurrence of the last few days, how is she like and Chris? How are they like?"
Oliver was surprised by the question. Sure his mother spoke of Chris but never Lia.
Chris.
He wondered what he was doing now. He hoped he wasn't crying if he was already awake. He hoped he wasn't. He was almost tempted to go back to their apartment and check.
"Oliver, do you like Chris?"
His eyes widened as he looked down at her. Why did everyone assume that? Oliver could smell homophobia going on, except it wasn't homophobia. Derek, a gay man (he assumed he was gay) also pointed it out. He couldn't help but feel just because he had a particular type and Chris just conveniently fit it, he would be attracted to him.
But you are.
Shut it.
"I haven't even said a word"
"Well you have that look in your eyes. Well it can't be about your birth mother so it's definitely about Christopher"
Oliver winced. That was weird.
"It's the same look I have when I think about your father"
"Ew it's not. Why do you straight people have to include yourselves into everything?"
His mother giggled. Yep, she was tipsy.
"So you do like him?"
Before Oliver could make himself think about it, he said,
"You know things don't have to be weird or awkward between all us. We're all adults and if you ask Chris to spend time with you, he will. Just give it time"
Actually, Oliver wasn't sure if Chris would be willing to hang out with his mother but he was right when he said to give it time.
She thought about it for a second before looking back at her canvass. Oliver looked too. The painting didn't look like anything but he knew the end result would be amazing.
"I love you too, baby"
He turned to face his mother and smiled. She proceeded to start painting and just like everytime he watched her paint, it was fascinating. He might not know how to draw a straight line but he could appreciate art when he saw it.
            Chris's eyelid felt heavy. It was a physical battle to get it to open. He tried to swallow but couldn't. His throat felt like sandpaper or something even worse than that. He couldn't tell how long he had been sleeping but he still felt tired. Everything about his being felt weak. His heart felt the weakest though. A minute or two later, he got his eyes to open and was almost scared about how dark his room was. It was just nighttime. With struggle, he managed to sit up and looked around the room. He stretched and turned on his bedside lamp. The lamp illuminated the room a bit. He looked around the room. It was too disorganized for his liking. His stomach growled and he realized hadn't eaten anything since the night before. His mother and Kathy were probably waiting for him.
Oh.
That's right. Kathy was...dead. He wouldn't be seeing her again.
He could barely get out of bed before he rushed to his restroom before he was in front of the toilet dry heaving because there was nothing to puke and just like before, he couldn't control his tears. Everything hurt. Nothing made sense. She couldn't just be dead. Except she was.
After a fruitless effort to throw up and when his gag subsided, he stood up and stood in front of his tiny bathroom mirror. His face looked horrible. He didn't like that. Quicky, he washed his face and left the bathroom. He needed to find his mother. He didn't want to be alone. Maybe he was dreaming and everything was fine and be would see Kathy in the living room. With that conviction in mind, he all but ran towards the living room. He found his mother in the living room seated on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her. The look on her face told him everything.
It's not a dream. He was never going to see her again.
He walked towards her and sat next to her, only then did she grab his attention.
"Baby, you're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked wrapping her arm around him. 
"I'm not sure",
He tried to wipe his tears but the tears kept flowing. Was he even in tears? Nothing made sense.
"Chris, you're not allowed to do that"
He could still hear her.
"Ugh, you're lucky I love you"
"You're something special, alright"
She was everywhere.
He laid his head on her shoulder as their memories played in his head until it became overwhelming that he could barely stand it.
"I can't stay here", he whispered to her.
"She's everywhere, mom. She's everywhere. I can't stay here"
"Okay, we'll find somewhere else to stay"
"She's really gone, is she not?"
"I'm so sorry"
He would never see her again.
He would never see her again.

(A/N: thank you for reading!!! Since it's the weekend tomorrow, I'll post a double update, even triple (???). And I'm putting this here that immediately I'm done with this book, I'm starting a new one and it is gay af. Thank you!!!!)