Page 80 of Break Me Not

I gave her a light smack on the chest. “Girlfriend sounds so… immature.”

“My partner. My love. The person who keeps my heart beating. Who lights up my soul. It’s a small list—you can choose which one you like best while I come up with more.”

Jax leaned close, her lips just brushing mine, as we held each other.

“I feel selfish too,” she admitted after a small pause. Her hands wrapped around me, and she hoisted me up onto her lap. It was a small, intimate gesture, but it felt so right at that moment. I wanted to be as close as I could to her. “My whole life, I've tried to be good. Even if it meant putting my needs last.” Jax took a deep breath. “I'm adopted.”

Her eyes sought mine, like she thought that would make her less in my eyes, and it added a little bit more color to what she’d said before. The need to be wanted. People treating her badly.

I wanted to hurt those people.

I didn’t say anything, though. I merely nodded, and she let out a shaky breath.

“I was scared that she would return me. But my mother…” She let out a laugh as a smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up. “She is the most selfless person I've ever met. I love her. She raised me by herself, and she did it well. I never felt like I couldn’t step out of line. She was artsy, a self-proclaimed hippie. She didn't care about my tattoos or piercings as long as I was happy and staying out of trouble.”

I let her talk. My fingers found the ends of her hair, and I started twirling them. Her face told me that she truly did love her mother, but there was something lingering. Something she wasn’t telling me, and it was making me nervous.

I wanted to tell her she could trust me, but I also needed her to learn that herself.

“She sounds perfect,” I said. “I wish I could say the same about my parents.”

Her smile was bitter now.

“I was so happy when she adopted me. We hit it off right away, even though I was older than most kids, going into middle school. The foster families I’d had had been shit, and, to put it bluntly, I felt like she… saved me. And I was afraid of being sent back for the first few years. I thought that maybe she’d realize I was too much. Too weird. That she’d made a mistake.” She cleared her throat, choking on her words. “She loved me. Loves me. And it hurt when friends dumped me when they found out. There was even a time when someone pretended to be my friend to try to see what was going on inside my house. They chalked up my weirdness to her, and I felt bad for her because she didn’t deserve any of it.”

The longer she spoke, the more pain I could feel radiating from her. It made me regret how coldly I’d pushed her away in the beginning. Obviously, I’d had my reasons, but now it felt like I had been too cruel.

How could anyone treat her like this? It was unfathomable to me. I knew kids were mean, both from my own experience at school and from watching Claire grow up. But hearing something like this happened to her made my eyes water.

“The universe only gave me a few years with her before… her condition became more apparent. She has Alzheimer’s. She is not totally lost to me yet, but she does need to be in a facility. After she started running out of the house scared, not recognizing the place where she had lived for thirty years, I had to step in.”

Fuck. How does one person hold all of this in like she does?

My heart broke for her. I could feel the sadness etched into her voice, and all I wanted to do was to make it better, but I knew… I couldn't.

“I'm so sorry.”

She leaned into me, resting her head on my chest as if the weight of it all was too heavy to bear. I couldn’t say anything else. I could only be there for her. I let her take all the time she needed, focusing on running my hands through her hair, up and down her arm, anywhere. Anything I could do that would help her relax into me. I wanted to take all her pain so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

“Me too,” she said with a long sigh. “And I've been trying to get better about visiting her, but… she forgets a lot. She can be mean now and very unlike someone who always took such good care of me and treated me the best. She never even raised her voice at me, not even once, and now when she does it… it's just a lot. I just⁠—”

“Was this what happened the other day? When I made dinner for us?”

Her voice broke, so I held her tightly.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Claire actually went with me. She goes with me often. Though my mother never remembers her.”

My heart swelled at the mention of Claire being there for her. It was such a hard situation, but I wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Claire would be the first to try and be there for her.

My daughter. Such a sweet, wonderful girl.

“I’m glad you can share this with her.”

“Me too. It’s hard. Especially when she snaps at me. She’s so sweet. And perfect. Never once has she ever said anything to hurt me and then⁠—”

She couldn’t continue. Her voice was breaking off, and the light sobs were coming faster now.

“I know. It's okay. You're okay. I'm here.”