Black Forever (Obsidian 4)

I chuckled, appreciating my mom’s feistiness. She used to put my dad in his place—before he turned into a psychopath. “Actually, I’m getting married today. Just wanted to kill some time, so I thought I would stop by.”

“What?” She grabbed my hand, her slender fingers covering my knuckles. “You’re getting married today?”

I couldn’t remember the last time my mother touched me. I hadn’t gotten a hug from her in years. I was a grown man who didn’t need anyone for anything, but my mother’s affection meant something to me. “Yeah.”

“That’s wonderful.” She clapped her hands and gave me a beaming smile. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Her name is Rome. And she’s my world.” That summarized my feelings in a nutshell. She was the center of my universe, the focal point through which I looked at the world.

“That’s so romantic. Where are you getting married?”

“St. Thomas Church.”

“Not sure where that is, but I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

I nodded. “It’s what she wanted. And my woman gets what she wants.”

“I can already tell you’re going to make a great husband.”

“Thank you.” Some days would be more difficult than others, but with Rome’s help, I knew I would be okay. We could work through any problems we had.

“I’m surprised you aren’t having a drink with your friends to fight off the nerves.”

“I’m not nervous.” Rome was the woman I wanted to spend my life with. Why should I be nervous?

“You have to admit, spending the day with a stranger is an odd utilization of time,” she said with a chuckle.

“You aren’t a stranger.” I didn’t know what motivated me to say that. Since I’d been visiting her for years and having the same conversations over and over, I guess I just didn’t want to repeat them again. It was a special day for me, and I wanted something different.

She tilted her head slightly, unsure of my meaning.

“I’ve been visiting you every week for years,” I whispered. “You’ve lost your memory due to illness, so you don’t recall me. But I’ve been reading to you, keeping you company, and spending time with you for a long time.”

Instead of asking a million questions, her face fell in sadness. She watched me with pity, like I was the one who was suffering. “You’re right…I can’t remember anything. My parents…my friends… I woke up this morning in a place I’ve never seen.”

I held the book in my hands, hating the fact that I was sitting there completely helpless. I couldn’t make my mother better. If I could shorten my life so she could fully live hers, I would. “I know it must be scary. Just know that you’re in a safe place, and you have people who love you.”

She felt her necklace around her throat, a piece of jewelry my father gave her when he wasn’t such a monster. He eyes drifted to the wooden floor, her look suddenly sunken with despair.

I hated seeing it.

“Are you one of those people, Calloway?” She lowered her hand from her necklace and looked me in the eye, strength slowly replacing her sadness.

“What people?”

“One of the people who love me?”

I gripped the book before I nodded. “I am.”

Her eyes watered like she already knew exactly who I was. Maybe she recognized my eyes because they were identical to her own. Maybe she felt the unspoken connection between us, the bond between mother and son. “You’re my son…”

I swallowed hard before I nodded, feeling the pain deep in my throat. I thought I would feel happy the day she knew who I was, but somehow, it made me feel worse. Now she knew she missed out on so much of my life, not because she wasn’t there, but because those memories were lost. “Yeah.”

“Oh…” She reached for my hand, comforting me when I should be comforting her. “You’re such a handsome man… I can’t believe you’re my son.”

I gave her hand a squeeze. “I have your eyes.” I looked into hers without blinking, wanting her to see the blue color she carried.

“Yes…you do.” She brought my hand to her mouth and kissed it. “I’m so sorry I can’t remember… I try but I can’t.”

“Don’t apologize, Mom.” Tears burned in my eyes when I finally called her by her rightful name. I hated saying Theresa. It was impersonal and improper. “I remember for the both of us. You were a great mom. The best, actually.”

“Yeah?” Tears bubbled in her eyes then fell down her cheeks. “Do you have any siblings?”

“A younger brother. Jackson.”

“Aww. Do you two look alike?”

“Yes,” I said with a chuckle. “People think we’re twins from time to time.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad the two of you have stuck together. And what of your father?”

I wasn’t going to tell her that he was an evil psychopath that made the world a better place once he died. “He passed away a long time ago.”