Page 239 of Heartache Duet
Leo smiles.
Connor squeezes my hand. “So do you have news about Miss D?” he asks, and I can hear the genuine concern in his voice. Regardless of what’s happening to us or what we aren’t, I know he cares about my mother in ways only a few people do.
And that has to mean something.
I hold his arm to my chest, allowing myself this one tiny moment with him.
“I managed to get the judge outside of the courtroom,” Nathan tells us. “All charges have been dropped, and your mom can come home today.”
My breath falters. “Really?”
“Really.”
“How did you…?”
Nathan shakes his head, his eyes shifting. “Unfortunately, in a town like this, it’s about who you know. And, luckily for you, your brother’s made some good contacts over the past few years.”
I glance at my brother, but he’s averting his gaze, and then I look over at Peter, notice him watching me, his eyes locked on the way I’m holding on to Connor. It’s not hard to figure out what’s going on here, and I want to be mad. I want to yell at Trevor for bringing Peter into this, but I can’t… because my mom is coming home.
“Thank you, Peter,” I choke out, my withheld sob making it impossible to breathe. I focus on Nathan and Leo again. “All of you. Thank you.”
Nathan nods, a sad smile tugging on his lips. “But, Ava, the judge has concerns, and honestly, after looking at your mom’s history, so do I.”
I ask, fear quickening my pulse, “What does that mean?”
“The state of the mental health care system in this town—”
“I know,” I cut in, looking down.
“You know what? What does that mean for…” Connor trails off.
It means she needs more help than we can provide...
“She knows what it means,” says Peter.
I can take care of you, Ava.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Connor grinds out.
But it’s our little secret.
Trevor sighs. “So when can she come home?”
“I’m about to start my shift,” says Leo. “I’ll pick her up and bring her right back.”
In the time Leo’s gone to pick up my mom, I ignore everyone around me and get to work. I print out new pictures, so many of them, and stick them all on her walls. I clean the living room, the kitchen—making sure to put away any glasses or sharp objects that have been carelessly left out. I check her meds, get them all ready for her. For the first time in days, I shower. I tidy my room, do some laundry, including the jacket I desperately ripped off Connor the second he came back from “Georgia.” I needed magic at that moment. I didn’t need the receipt that fell from the jacket pocket and all the lies and insecurities that came with it.
Connor follows me around, his words low when he tries to talk to me. It’s hard having him here, but telling him to leave and giving him the reasons why I don’t want him here would be so much harder. Besides, I don’t know what state my mother will be in when she gets home, and as much as I hate to admit it, he helps her in ways only the two of them understand.
When I’m done, I sit in the living room and stare out the window.
Waiting.
It’s as if I’m fifteen again, and my world is nothing but heartache and hope.
It feels like hours before the squad car pulls into the driveway. Connor’s instantly on his feet, taking me with him. He must’ve been looking out the window, too.
Waiting.