Page 165 of Always Love You More

“And what’s that?”

“Your drug dealer, Ma. That’s what you want, isn’t it? What I’m good for?”

“That’s not … Jameson—”

“You do what I say, you get your pills. Got it?” My voice is flat, completely void of emotion.

She blinks up at me. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need me to.”

She stares back at me, resigned. Then, dipping her chin, she stands, brushing past me without a word.

I wait until I hear the water start then move for my room, slamming the door shut behind me. My fist cracks against it, splitting the wood.

“Fuck!” I shout, shaking out my hand.

I start to pace, the built-up energy inside me having nowhere to go.

My mind keeps playing the last few minutes over and over again in my head, trying to rationalize that I did the right thing. That what I did was for my mother’s own good. That it was the only way. That I’m not turning into my fucking father.

Pacing isn’t enough.Nothingis enough.

I need …

I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial Sam’s number. It rings several times before she picks up.

“Hello?” she says, the end of the word tilting up in confusion.

I almost never call her when she’s at work.

“Baby,” I push out. “I—”

She must hear it in my voice. “Hold on. Let me get on break.”

I continue to pace as I wait, listening to the muffled sounds coming from the other line.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m back. What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to be him,” I whisper.

“You’re not,” she’s quick to respond, her tone certain. “You know you’re not.”

I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “I’m not a good person.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“My mother … I …”

She gives me time, letting the silence sit between us.

“The way my life is … the way it’s been … it’s made me …”

“It’s made you what?”

“Broken,” I tell her. “Violent. Numb.”

“No,” she says. “No, you’re not broken.”