I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

32 (NEW)

SAM

I twist the knob of the radio back and forth; picking up country songs, sad ones mostly, which lead me to turn it off. My heart pounds. I'm nervous...maybe getting back together was a stupid idea. But then again. Everyone is a fool in love. I tap my fingertips on the steering wheel...wondering if Chris and Mrs. Johnson were making up or fighting still. My bet is more towards the latter. Chris is on edge and kind of unpredictable right now.

I decide to check my phone, powering it on. I had it off due to being paranoid about being tracked. Now that feeling is gone. Besides, if we were followed, we'd be caught already.

I find three voicemails from work, three texts, and ten missed calls. Ah fuck...I should answer them...but then again, what do I tell them? My boyfriend stole illegal money, and now I'm on the run with him? Yeah.... Hopefully, my manager, Bob, will just activate my vacation days, I'd hate to be fired. Maybe I should text work.

I open messenger and select Bob's name. There are texts from Vicki, Amber, and Jade, but I look past those. Okay, keep it short and simple.

TEXT: Hey Bob, sorry about being a no show, there's a family emergency. I haven't been checking my phone. Hopefully, you'll understand. If you could please write these days off as personal time, I would be very thankful.

I'll ask for a transfer once things settle.

My eyes read the other texts in my feed.

VICKI: are u okay 😟

AMBER: CALL ME ASAP

JADE: Do I gotta put out a missing persons file on you? Pick up 😩

MY REPLY: I'm alright just going through something right now ❤️

I copy and paste this reply and sent it to the other two. Yeah, they're just distractions, but we all have an understanding. Plus, they are worried.

A tap on my window makes me jump. I look up to see Chris's mom. She points to the passenger side door, which I unlock. Is this good or bad? I think as she opens the door opposite me, and gets in, leaving the door open, so a breeze flows through the car. Along with the sound of birds. I realize now that I'm sweating...and that I'm uncomfortable, hot. How didn't I feel this before...?

"I can see you got a lot on your noggin."

I put my phone away in the armrest; her eyes follows it curiously. "I do."

Mrs. Johnson shares a long, critical look...as if she is God weighing if I should be allowed into heaven. Her love for her son is un-measurable and physically visible, her crossed arms resemble a female lion ready for prey. "Why did you stick around after the...thing?"

I give a short smile. "Because I care about your son."

Mrs. Johnson deeply analyzes my answer; her eyes now seeming to analyze my soul. "On our little video calls, Chris was so happy in your presence, y'all's chemistry was magnetic and you came off very trustworthy. I have this skill of reading people's auras and chakras. Yours was very bright and mellow. So much that I told Chris that you were a keeper." She looks ahead at the house, where Chris is most likely peeking out the window watching us. "I felt the love, I daydreamed a wedding. Only to find a few months later, my baby calling me at 3 am, scaring me shitless. My husband and I didn't like how he sounded...as if his life was over...as if the future held nothing. I guess you were his everything because he let you back in. Why?" Mrs. Johnson asks, while still looking ahead at the house.

"Because we shared too much." I watch her eyes shift across the windows of the house, as she listens. "Chris came at a time I was struggling...he was too, so we clicked. I respected what he wanted in a relationship. I put in the time without complaint." I eye the windows of the house, feeling Chris's eyes penetrating mines from somewhere hidden. "I gained his trust and helped him cope; that's why he let me back in."

Mrs. Johnson's eyes go still, and her expression hard. "Are you ashamed of what you did?"

"Yes, and I've been making up for it."

"I know how it feels." She glances at me softly. "I'll just say that I'm no stranger to being cheated on, and I tell you the same thing I told my baby in there," she tilts her head towards the house, "that doesn't mean I want Chris to do the same as I did. To go through that cycle again as if it's normal."

"It's not going to happen again," I reply indefinitely.

Mrs. Johnson shakes her head and snickers. "You're young, and the youth recklessly repeat themselves."

This pisses me off. I try remaining neutral and polite, but a string pulls inside me. My jaws clench, and my voice comes out too roughly. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Young man, I do, and I feel you're not good enough to get another chance." She says in a slow, deadly tone.

"That's up to your son, isn't it?!" I hiss, losing my patience, feeling my face reddens with heat.

A brief wind blows into the car as she turns to face me. "It is...but that doesn't mean I'll stop persuading him to choose a better path. This is more personal than you can understand right now. When you have a child, you'll come to appreciate my position." Mrs. Johnson steps out of the car. "Now, I made a promise to talk to you on my son's behalf, and I did. You're not rational enough to be with him romantically, but you should stay a friend."

"Look...I'm trying to be reasonable, but you're pushing it. I thought Chris was being over-dramatic when he said you don't want to respect my mistake...but he's right. You're only allowing your own narrative. This isn't your choice." My tone goes as hot as the sweat on my skin.

Mrs. Johnson holds a hand to the top of the car, and leans forward, threateningly. "I think respect for a stranger is bullshit. Now watch your tone, if not, things will get ugly real fast. I compromised, I didn't have too, but I did." She smiles half heartily then backs away. "Now come on inside, you'll have a heat stroke in this car." Her tone turns light as if she wasn't just mean.

I watch her walk back to the house, feeling as if my right to have Chris is ripped away. I grab my phone from the armrest compartment, then exit the car. Closing my door and the passenger side door that Mrs. Johnson left open. That was a power move...done on purpose...I'm sure of it.

To the trunk, I go and take out the two bags from inside. As I carry them inside the house, I feel a massive impatience take over me. Usually, I'm calm and collected, but this is pushing me to a melting point. All this dictatorship...and his mom doesn't seem like the biggest problem, wait until his father comes home.

I drop the bag on a bench in the foyer, and take out the first clothes my hands touch, not caring. I need a cool shower.

I unpack a wash towel, Mountain Falls body wash, socks, underwear, light blue shorts, and a floral, half sleeve button up. I close and lock the front door and place my phone atop the bag. I search the rooms below for a bathroom, finding an old fashioned living and dining room, and two closets, before successfully locating it.

What a lovely welcoming.