I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

31

Chris steps past his mother and into the house, his hand on his hip. Mrs. Johnson glowers at me a bit longer: her nostrils flaring.

"I'll go, we can meet up later-"

"No, stay!" Chris demands in a growl, his tone turns flat and chilling. "Give us a minute."

Mrs. Johnson tears her eyes off of me and steps into a small foyer. Chris slams the door behind them. I stand on the welcome mat, hearing sharp voices through the wood of the door. "Sam is it?! The asshole who cheated on you?!"

"Mama, you need to calm down!"

"I'm not the one being irrational; you are!!"

I walk over a bit, to the side of the house, glancing over the street; a bare, clean as a piece of paper area. So silent, so still. I try not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it gets louder, giving me no choice.

"You and dad had rough times, I don't get why you're so against unfaithfulness when you experienced it, and still stayed with him!" Chris yells.

"That doesn't mean I want you to do the same as I did. There are times I regret not walking away..."

"But you couldn't, could you? I wonder why." His voice throws ice.

A silence...a blood-tingling one, comes between the two of them. I hold my breath, hoping this argument doesn't escalate. Chris needs his family right now more than ever. He's going through a crisis and needs support...way more than I can offer. Me being here isn't the stability he needs. I'm causing a family feud. My sight shoots to the rental car, pondering if I should leave.

"Honey..." Mrs. Johnson says slowly. "It's not always right to take someone back after they hurt you. I was young and didn't know this. When someone cheats, they no longer care about the bond you have, or they're trying to cause you pain on purpose. Which category do you think he falls under?"

"The past is in the past..." Chris says indefinitely.

"Sweetie, if you think he won't do it again, then I don't know what to tell you."

"It's been seven months; Sam has proved that he's sorry by sticking around. A player would've just left and used on, but he's still here. Do you want to know why? Because we built a foundation, just like you and dad did. I thought you two were perfect, a damn match made by god. Every relationship has problems; what makes or breaks it is the bond and recovery." He snaps. "Sam is just another person in this fucking world who made a mistake."

Another silence interrupts the argument, so long that I presume that the heated match is over. I near the door, about to knock. Then I hear Chris's mother say, "try convincing your father of that," her boots cling away, hard. A few seconds later, another door slams. Chris must have kicked at a wall because a loud thump comes after.

"Shit!" The door yanks open. My eyes land on a fuming Chris, his fists balled, his eyes beady and fed up. "Let's go."

"I don't think you should leave on this note..." I grab his wrist as he tries to walk off. "She isn't completely wrong."

Chris laughs hysterically. "Oh, don't you dare agree with her on this."

"I have to." My thumb caresses his wrist, before letting it go. "I knew what I was doing, Chris. I took my anger out on you. I knew it would break you."

"Don't." Chris shakes his head dismissively, his eyebrows wavering emotionally.

"It's time we talked about this." My forehead wrinkles, my eyes water. "I took it out on you, and I'm sorry I did." My voice shatters. "Your mother loves you and only wants what's best; you shouldn't have treated her that way. Please go apologize."

"Not until she can respect your mistake, she doesn't even want to acknowledge it!" Chris throws a hard look at the door.

"Yeah...she sounds like someone I know." I take him into a hug and kiss the top of his head. "She's scared for you, that's all." Chris huffs into my chest, first at a very rapid pace, then in a slow and normal rhythm. "Go." I pull away from our embrace. "I'll be in the car."

CHRIS

I do as he asks, feeling like a heartless bitch, and like an outcast in my own home. Mama is taking it bad, meaning daddy will go over the top with his reaction just to match hers. It's good to be home. I walk back into the house, leaving the door ajar a bit so I can watch Sam approach the red rental.

He's finally said sorry...it's no longer an awkward, self-pity, mute response to the affair. Sam gets into the car. I shut the door lightly behind me. Guiltily eyeing the hole I kicked into the bottom of the wall out of rage. I'll fix it later.

I close my eyes, then walk towards a hallway.

The study is my mom's de-stress room. I remember when she and dad would argue, she'd say the last word, then slam the door, leaving my dad steaming at it. I laugh a little. They were like Tom and Jerry in those days.

But it got better...or at least it did to me, a kid. I stroll a narrow hallway full of hanging pictures. My heart sinks and flutters at my baby pictures, my birthday parties, and bath times. I sheepishly gaze at the study's door. Of course, I know she loves me, but she didn't try to hear me out at all. I knock on the door, knowing that it's locked.

"I'm sorry, can you open up?"

I hear sniffling before her jiggling boots near the door. I turn the knob when the locks snap. My mom's cheeks trail with tears when I open the door. "I'm just trying to protect you." She sobs.

"I know." I comfort her, taking her shaking hands in mine.

"I don't want you hurt like before."

I rub her shoulders, feeling waterworks coming on. "He changed, really he has. If you talk to him, you'll see."

"Did he apologize?"

"Yes."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, that doesn't mean it was true..."

"Mama!" I say, with a highly irritated groan. "Don't write him off...please just have a conversation with him. With how you pick up on things, you'd know right off if he's using me."

She wipes at her eyes. "It's called a mother's radar." We both laugh, half crying. "And don't mama me; I don't want you to be dicknotized; I'm gonna check for that too."

"It's a deal." I hug her again; this time, it's a bear-tight one. "Where's dad?"

"He should be wrapping up at the shop; he'll be home soon." My mom's perfume flows to my nose; lavender. I savor the scent, the nostalgia. "You should be begging your dad to have a word with Sam, not me." My mom ends the hug. "I swear, don't let that guy in this house until we explain to him what's going on. Now, I'm gonna to try and be reasonable about it...but your old man, that's the problem, suga."

I huff. "Yeah."

"My advice to you, if this goes well, is to be on that man like a fly on shit on a hot summer day. I had my phase of busting your dad with skanks and dragging his big-eared ass, nude and all, back to the house. He wised up after being humiliated in front of neighbors, and that was the end of the affairs."

I roll my eyes sarcastically. "Oh yeah, I can definitely drag Sam around."

Mama laughs. "Welcome home, sweetness."