The Professional Lover II (18+) | [Complete]

11 : Hating It

A/N: The following chapter contains explicit content and topics some may find triggering.

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I stare as mom talks on and on, her light Brazilian accent twists her vowels the way she used to try so hard to suppress. "And, love, she said ..." she stops to laugh at the joke she hasn't told yet, but I'm so numb I don't care to hear the rest. "Love" is what she called Z, not me.

She was always closer to her first-born, her perfect clone. Zipporah was always everyone's favorite. She was the gorgeous one always mistaken for Gisele, the charming one that could make friends with just a smile, the intelligent one pursuing a double major in art history and architecture.

Everyone fell in love with her. Remy was no exception, but he was the only other person that knew her demons like I did.

Mom is barely herself anymore, though I'm not sure I know which version of her is the truest. The mother that sang me Portuguese lullabies before bed, the parent that kept me up nearly every night of my childhood laughing with my sister, or the woman who blindly followed her sociopathic husband's desires for the money and lifestyle he provided her.

Tumor or no tumor, I understand now how comfortable our life was before, I even know that in her own fucked up way, she loved my sister until the end -- but try telling Remy that. He will never understand why I've done this, but it's because he will never be able to see mom like this -- like a victim.

Checking my phone, I see it's time to head back. Timing the eight-hour commute to Phoenix is the hardest part of keeping my secret. My chest hurts as I say, "I have to go now, Mommy."

"Already?" she frowns. I nod to her and lean forward to pull her into a hug. She grips me back. "I love you, Maggie."

I still in her embrace. "I love you too, Mommy." I kiss her cheek and let her go, turning to leave before I can see the disappointment in her expression.

As I walk down the hall towards the exit, I catch the eye of the doctor standing near the front desk. I turn to run before he catches me, but it doesn't work. "Ms. Abbatelli."

I stop in my tracks, turning around on my heels to face him. I tuck my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie and raise a defiant eyebrow in question.

"Could we talk for a moment?"

I already know what he's going to say. "Sure."

He walks me behind the desk and into an office. He gestures me to sit in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. I do so, slouching against the back.

He laces his fingers together and looks at me, ready to lecture away. "Ms. Abbatelli," he starts with a serious expression. "We know you are well aware of your mother's condition, however, we find it odd that you are so hesitant to come see her." He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow like a fucking shithead. "We think you could be doing more to support your mother through this tough time."