Enemy Beloved

9 | the one he wants

★

V A U G H N

My arms hurt as I continue hitting the punching bag with full strength. I have been going at it for an hour without stopping and even though my muscles ache and my knuckles feel like they have reached their breaking point, I can't seem to get rid of what Mom did today.

I didn't bring Claire here for Mom to go ahead and embarrass me in front of her. I brought her here so that Mom could see for herself that I was telling the truth. I can't unsee Mom's tears. The last time I saw her cry was when Dad died four years ago. Her spilling tears today enrages me. Claire did this to her.

"You're hurting, Vaughn." Mom's voice behind me stops me for a moment but I dismiss her and continue.

She shouldn't be here anyway. The top floor of the house is entirely my space — everything from the gym to the swimming pool on the rooftop are my additions — no one is allowed to disturb me here.

"You embarrassed me today," I spit out without looking at her when I don't hear her leave; my voice sounding ragged and tired.

"I'm your mother. You don't know what went through me when I saw her here today," she says. "After everything that happened between our families, her loving you comes off as an unbelievable thing. I wanted to see for myself."

"What did you see Mom?" I yell, throwing one last punch at the bag before turning to her. It is past eight and she still hasn't changed into her night clothes. "What did you see? That she indeed wants to marry me? Why couldn't you just believe it when I told you?"

"Because I can't trust you!" A corner of her eye twitches; the wrinkles become more visible for a second. "I know you better than anyone else and therefore I couldn't trust you."

"Why?"

"Because of Michael Hill," she answers. "Because I know how much you hate that man and I couldn't trust your words that you were doing this for love. I thought it was your way of getting back at Michael for what happened to your Dad."

Her words are a slap in the face for me. It is proof of how things won't ever be the same. My mother will never trust me again.

"And what if it is, Mom?" I scoff, getting rid of the wrap around my hands.

My fingers are swelling up and as I clench and unclench my fists, a searing pain travels through my arms.

"You wouldn't!" Mom gasps, almost sounding surprised. "You should understand, son. What Michael did was in grief. He had just lost his son. He needed time to handle that kind of pain."

"Fuck Michael!" I curse. "He just wanted to ruin Dad's reputation. He told the fucking media about what happened knowing that those bastards will do anything to add salt to the wound. How can you defend him, Mom? He is the reason Dad had that stroke in the first place."

"Don't act like you didn't deserve that." She takes hold of my elbow to make me face her. "Your recklessness is the reason Christopher Hill is dead. You killed him, son. You killed your best friend!"

I stare at her in silence as bits and pieces of that night flash before my eyes. It hurts to see the flashes again. No one will believe me if I tell them that Chris's death hurt me the most — no one will ask why. For them, I am just the killer and for Michael Hill, I am his son's murderer.

"I don't want to talk about Chris," I say, averting my eyes from Mom and picking up my flask from a table nearby.

"Why don't you?" Mom continues. "Why can't you talk about him? Do you know what I went through, Vaughn? You have no idea, do you?"