'Til Death: Volume Two
Page 4
“I can’t go back there. You know I can’t,” I say, my voice trembling.
“You can.”
“No, if I go back, I have to face . . .”
“Marcus?”
I flinch.
“Jesus, Katia, you can’t hide forever. It’s been long enough. Go home, divorce him, move on with your life.”
Divorce.
Something that still hasn’t been done.
“I don’t know if I can face him,” I stammer. “I don’t want him to know about Penny and—”
“He doesn’t need to know unless you want him to. You divorce him, you leave. Your father will protect you.”
“He’ll find out about her. If I go back . . .”
“And you don’t think that he has the right to know?” he says, gently.
My heart twists. “No. He deserves nothing.”
“Katia . . .”
“We’re fine here, Dusty.”
“No you’re not,” he yells. “Fuck me, you’re living in a shitty apartment, struggling to survive. Your clothes have fucking patches on them. Your mother looks starving. What the fuck are you doing? You don’t have to live like this!”
“I don’t have a choice!” I scream.
“You have a father willing to help, friends . . .”
“I can’t . . .”
He shakes his head, sadly. “If it was just about you, I wouldn’t push, but it’s not just about you, Katia. It’s about your mom and your daughter. They’re suffering because your pride won’t let you help them. Think about that.”
“How dare you?” I whisper, my voice a deadly hiss.
“Katia,” he says, carefully. “I’m not trying to be an asshole . . . but you don’t have to live like this.”
I close my eyes, fighting against the burn starting in my nose and working its way up until tears spill over my eyelids.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Come back, sort it out, make a life for you and your daughter.”
“Dusty, please.”
He pulls me into his arms. “Just think about it. We can help you. If I had known it was like this, that you were lying to me . . . I would have come sooner.”
I nod, even though there’s no way I’ll go back there. No way.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pulling back.
“Surprise visit,” he mutters, then throws his hands up. “Surprise.”
I laugh softly.
“Well,” I say, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
CHAPTER TWO
KATIA
Dusty stays for three days before I know it gets too much for him. He doesn’t say it, but I felt his tension. He made me promise to keep calling, and begged me to think about coming home. I said I would, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to happen. I know he means well, but he’ll never understand the emptiness in my heart.
I spend the rest of the week working. My shifts are longer, morning until night, and by the time I get home and play with Penny for a few hours, I’m exhausted. I pass out, only to have to get up and do it again. It’s repetitive, my boss is an asshole and I make minimum wage. I think a lot about my father, wondering if he’s thinking about me.
Has he searched for us?
When the weekend rolls around, I take Mom and Penny to the diner for lunch. We don’t do it often, and it’s wonderful to occasionally do something nice. I can’t really afford it, but my tips were good on Friday night, so I spared a tiny amount for us to enjoy a burger. Mom barely touches hers, and I watch as she pokes around, shoving the food across her plate.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are quite red. “Have you been sleeping, Mom?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’ve just got a headache. I think I need to go home and rest.”
I narrow my eyes. “Have you had this headache often?”
Her eyes dart away and my heart plummets. She’s been keeping it from me. Oh God, she’s been suffering, and I didn’t even know.
“Mom?” I whisper.
“I’m fine, Katia. I’m just tired.”
“Something is wrong. You’re having trouble again, aren’t you?”
“It’s nothing.”
I close my eyes, fighting back my tears. The waitress comes over and I pay her before standing and helping Mom back to the apartment. It’s not a long walk, but by the time we’re back she’s panting and clutching her head.
“You need a doctor,” I say frantically, sitting her on the couch.
“No, I just need to lie down.”
“Mom,” I yell. “You need a doctor!”
“We can’t afford one,” she whispers. “Katia, I’m fine.”
It’s like a punch to the stomach. Fire scorches my heart, until I feel nothing but a burning pain radiating through my body. She didn’t tell me because she knows we can’t afford treatment.
“How long has this been going on?”
She stares at me, her eyes empty.
“Mom,” I prompt. “Please?”
“On and off for a few weeks.”
My chest feels as if it’s going to explode. She’s been in agony, probably something severe, maybe another tumor, and she’s kept it to herself because she knows there’s no way under the sun we can afford help. Tears trickle down my cheeks and I kneel in front of her. “I’ll get some help, I swear.”
“You can.”
“No, if I go back, I have to face . . .”
“Marcus?”
I flinch.
“Jesus, Katia, you can’t hide forever. It’s been long enough. Go home, divorce him, move on with your life.”
Divorce.
Something that still hasn’t been done.
“I don’t know if I can face him,” I stammer. “I don’t want him to know about Penny and—”
“He doesn’t need to know unless you want him to. You divorce him, you leave. Your father will protect you.”
“He’ll find out about her. If I go back . . .”
“And you don’t think that he has the right to know?” he says, gently.
My heart twists. “No. He deserves nothing.”
“Katia . . .”
“We’re fine here, Dusty.”
“No you’re not,” he yells. “Fuck me, you’re living in a shitty apartment, struggling to survive. Your clothes have fucking patches on them. Your mother looks starving. What the fuck are you doing? You don’t have to live like this!”
“I don’t have a choice!” I scream.
“You have a father willing to help, friends . . .”
“I can’t . . .”
He shakes his head, sadly. “If it was just about you, I wouldn’t push, but it’s not just about you, Katia. It’s about your mom and your daughter. They’re suffering because your pride won’t let you help them. Think about that.”
“How dare you?” I whisper, my voice a deadly hiss.
“Katia,” he says, carefully. “I’m not trying to be an asshole . . . but you don’t have to live like this.”
I close my eyes, fighting against the burn starting in my nose and working its way up until tears spill over my eyelids.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Come back, sort it out, make a life for you and your daughter.”
“Dusty, please.”
He pulls me into his arms. “Just think about it. We can help you. If I had known it was like this, that you were lying to me . . . I would have come sooner.”
I nod, even though there’s no way I’ll go back there. No way.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pulling back.
“Surprise visit,” he mutters, then throws his hands up. “Surprise.”
I laugh softly.
“Well,” I say, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
CHAPTER TWO
KATIA
Dusty stays for three days before I know it gets too much for him. He doesn’t say it, but I felt his tension. He made me promise to keep calling, and begged me to think about coming home. I said I would, knowing full well that it wasn’t going to happen. I know he means well, but he’ll never understand the emptiness in my heart.
I spend the rest of the week working. My shifts are longer, morning until night, and by the time I get home and play with Penny for a few hours, I’m exhausted. I pass out, only to have to get up and do it again. It’s repetitive, my boss is an asshole and I make minimum wage. I think a lot about my father, wondering if he’s thinking about me.
Has he searched for us?
When the weekend rolls around, I take Mom and Penny to the diner for lunch. We don’t do it often, and it’s wonderful to occasionally do something nice. I can’t really afford it, but my tips were good on Friday night, so I spared a tiny amount for us to enjoy a burger. Mom barely touches hers, and I watch as she pokes around, shoving the food across her plate.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are quite red. “Have you been sleeping, Mom?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’ve just got a headache. I think I need to go home and rest.”
I narrow my eyes. “Have you had this headache often?”
Her eyes dart away and my heart plummets. She’s been keeping it from me. Oh God, she’s been suffering, and I didn’t even know.
“Mom?” I whisper.
“I’m fine, Katia. I’m just tired.”
“Something is wrong. You’re having trouble again, aren’t you?”
“It’s nothing.”
I close my eyes, fighting back my tears. The waitress comes over and I pay her before standing and helping Mom back to the apartment. It’s not a long walk, but by the time we’re back she’s panting and clutching her head.
“You need a doctor,” I say frantically, sitting her on the couch.
“No, I just need to lie down.”
“Mom,” I yell. “You need a doctor!”
“We can’t afford one,” she whispers. “Katia, I’m fine.”
It’s like a punch to the stomach. Fire scorches my heart, until I feel nothing but a burning pain radiating through my body. She didn’t tell me because she knows we can’t afford treatment.
“How long has this been going on?”
She stares at me, her eyes empty.
“Mom,” I prompt. “Please?”
“On and off for a few weeks.”
My chest feels as if it’s going to explode. She’s been in agony, probably something severe, maybe another tumor, and she’s kept it to herself because she knows there’s no way under the sun we can afford help. Tears trickle down my cheeks and I kneel in front of her. “I’ll get some help, I swear.”
