The whole situation is tense and awkward. I sit on the edge of the couch near the door ready to bolt. My birth mother sits on the opposite end wisely giving me some space.
“Hazel, thank you for agreeing to this. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
I don’t tell her I wasn’t given much of a choice. That I came here cuffed and collared by a possessive lunatic. Or that part of me enjoys being his captive. “I wasn’t sure I would either to be honest.”
“I understand, and I don’t want you to think I have any expectations, but I’d really love it if we could get to know each other.”
“I appreciate that. I just...this is a bit overwhelming.”
“I can see that. You and Holy are together? I’m confused. How long have you known each other?”
“Since we were kids.”
Lily balks at the information and lets out a small gasp. “That long. I had no idea.” Her eyes narrow into slits, and she glares at Holy.
I feel the need to defend him, though I don’t think we owe her any explanations. “We lost contact but yeah, he knows me better than anyone.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t you have told me that? I gave you her picture and you said nothing. You knew my daughter and didn’t say a word.” Her eyes brim with tears.
I don’t want to have remorse for her or care that she’s hurt by this revelation. The woman turned her back on me the second I was born.
“Had my reasons. Hazel wants to share her side of our past with you then that’s her choice. Wasn’t going to take it from her.”
“My search for her—it brought you back together?” she hedges. I guess she’s wondering how long he’s kept me a secret.
“It did,” I answer. “I thought I’d never see Benicio again, but I’m glad he’s back in my life. He was always there for me. He’s my real family. The only person who has ever given a damn about me.” The truth may hurt her but there it is. Benicio has always been the realest. The one to love me. The emotions of it hit me square in the chest. It’s him. It always has been. Time separating us be damned.
“I never stopped loving you. I don’t want you to think I rejected you. I wanted you to have a better life. I wasn’t mentally in a place to care for you. I don’t expect you to forgive my choices, but I hope you can understand them. You see I was raped.” Her hand moves to the scar on her face.
My stomach drops.
“I wished for death. It was one of my darkest times. My husband. Your father.” She pauses briefly, staring at her hands clasped in her lap. “He tried to move past it and when I became pregnant, I thought he had. Only he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to me. He blamed himself and couldn’t get past the thought that you might not be his. He took his own life and my brother. James. He murdered the man who raped me and went to prison for it. I was alone and scared. I couldn’t handle taking care of a child. I’m sorry for that, but never think that you weren’t loved or wanted. Giving you up was my greatest act of love. It’s the best I could give you. I was at my lowest.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.” I try to take it all in, but it’s all so much to unpack. What happened to her is completely fucked. Hard to be mad at someone who has experienced that much loss and pain.
“You don’t need to. Just consider giving me an opportunity to be the mom now that I couldn’t be for you then. That’s all I am asking for is a chance. I’ll be in town a while longer. I’m staying at Alexa’s. Do you... do you have a place to stay?”
“Yeah, with me,” Holy answers for me.
“Right. Okay. Well, it’s getting late, so I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you have things to talk about. Maybe we can have lunch in a couple of days. You could come over to Alexa’s. I can cook.”
“Maybe.” Damn my heart hurts. The walls close in around me. I want to hate her. I want to bolt from this room. From this clubhouse and never look back, but then I look at him. At Holy.
Chapter Sixteen
“You good?” Holy crosses the room to where I’m still perched on the edge of the couch in his office at the clubhouse after meeting my birth mother. He crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his.
“Mhmm.” I nod.
“Babe, look at me.” I give him my attention. “Tell me what’s going through your mind right now.”
“The thought of being my father drove a man to suicide.” The idea of being my father drove him mad. So mad he took his own life. Its fucked. I wish she’d never told me. I think hearing her rapist was my father would have been easier to digest. I want to hit something. I want to scream.
“No. We aren’t doing that. You aren’t putting any of that shit on you.” He squeezes my hands trying to ground me but any illusions I ever had about my father have been shattered.
So many times I allowed myself to daydream that somewhere out there my father wa
s searching for me. That he wanted me. That one day we’d be reunited. Like some stupid movie or after school special. I knew it would never happen, but I dared to dream. And now I know that it was never possible and never will be.