My eyes pop open, and my breath catches in my chest as I find myself still wrapped in my mama’s arms.
Her cold, lifeless arms.
I freeze and panic engulfs me.
“No. No. No.” I shake my head and nudge her. “Mama? Mama, please!”
If Grandmother finds out that I allowed this to happen to her, she’ll kill me.
I sit up and shake her. “Come on, wake up.”
My mind flashes to something I saw on television once, and I quickly press my lips to her chilled ones. I blow a puff of air into her mouth, but nothing seems to be happening, so I try again.
Tears flow down my cheeks.
This can’t be real. The one person I love in this world can’t be gone.
I refuse to give up. I’ll keep putting air into her as long as it takes.
The next thing I know I’m being jerked back by the hair on my head.
“Get back, you little beast! Look what you’ve done!” Grandmother wails.
She falls to her knees beside the couch and throws herself across mama’s body and sobs. “Gina. My sweet, Gina. Why did you allow a demon inside you?”
I attempt to slink off the couch. Maybe if I can hide somewhere good, she won’t hit me today.
The cushion underneath me moves a bit and the couch creaks. Grandmother’s eyes flash to me, and they narrow instantly.
“You! You did this to my baby!”
For an older woman she’s fast. She jumps to her feet and wraps her hands around my neck, squeezing hard.
I gasp for air, but everything around me begins fading in and out of view.
“If she’d never loved you, she’d still be alive. You ruined her life. You’re the one who should be dead. Not her! Not my Gina!” she shrieks and tightens her grip.
The darkness flows over my eyes, and for the first time, I welcome death.
Hands shake me vigorously. “Xavier, wake up. Please. You’re scaring me.”
My eyes open at the sound of Anna’s sweet voice, and I scramble back against the headboard of the bed to get away from her touch. My chest heaves as I stare at her with wide eyes.
Dreams like that are so fucking real. They take me right back to the place in my life I try so desperately to shut out.
Sweat rolls down my chest and onto the sheet wrapped around my body. I need to get my mind off this shit. I have to forget.
I jump off the bed and fall to the floor on my stomach. I begin doing push-ups as fast as I can, needing the burn. I wish Anna wasn’t here to see this. I don’t need her to know how weak I am inside—how broken I am.
Just like before, she sits next to me on the floor and watches me. After a few moments her hand reaches out to mine in an attempt to comfort me.
I close my eyes. That little bit of contact with her feels so good.
“Will you talk to me about what happens when you’re like this?” she asks, her voice soft.
I keep working. How can I tell her the man that she loves is bad news?
When I don’t answer, she tries again. “Please, Xavier. You can trust me.”
The sincerity in her voice makes me want to tell her. I’ve never talked about my childhood with anyone. It’s too hard.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. Let me in. I want to know all of you—good and bad.” She’s on her knees beside me now, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, attempting to calm me down.
I lie down on the ground so I don’t hurt her by accident, and she rests her chest against my back.
She smoothes my hair back and kisses the side of my head.
“I’m here to listen.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say to her.
“Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?”
I take a deep breath and stare straight ahead at the nightstand in front of me. “My mother died with her arms around me, and sometimes my nightmares take me back there.”
She’s quiet, allowing me to take as much time as I need. I still can’t look at her though. I don’t want to risk seeing pity in her eyes.
I debate ending my story there, but there’s a pressure in my chest, and for some crazy reason it feels like everything I’ve ever bottled up is fighting to climb out of me. Maybe Anna should know everything about me. She’s the first person who’s loved me since my mother. She needs to know what she’s in for.
“My mother was a drug addict. It was just her and me until her addiction became the main focus of her life. We were evicted from our apartment when I was eight. Mom ended up loving drugs more than anything else, and we lost everything.”
Anna squeezes my shoulders in encouragement but remains quiet.
I lick my dry lips and taste the salt on my upper lip that still lingers from my vigorous workout. “We moved in with my grandmother a few months before Mom died. My grandmother was a religious woman, but she was filled with so much rage toward me. She was convinced I was an evil seed, planted in her daughter, making her an addict. The blame was always placed on me and she took it out on me, physically. My mother’s love for her demon seed is what ruined her life, because she refused to give me up.”
I shake my head and bite back the emotion I feel creeping up on me. “That’s why I can’t love you back, Anna. My love will destroy you.”
Anna leans in and kisses my cheek. “You know that’s not true, right. No child is to blame for their parent’s sins, and what happened with your mom, that’ll never happen between us.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper. “It would kill me if I did.”