Taking Care Of The Mobster - Page 20

My heart constricts painfully at Beth’s words. I know she means no harm, but her words hurt all the same. But it was just the affirmation that I needed to confirm my doubts. What did I expect?

I blink back the tears of frustration that are welling up in my eyes and take in a gentle steadying breath. “And Mom? How is she?”

“Oh, she’s excited about the new treatment,” Beth replies, back to her usual bubbly self. “You know how she’s always optimistic. Oh, you need to see the room she’s assigned at the hospital. It’s...exclusive. I can’t believe we got this lucky. Anyway, Mom misses you a lot. She’s always heavily sedated most of the time these days, though. The doctors say it’s part of the treatment. And truly, she’s improved a lot.”

“I’m glad she’s doing well,” I say genuinely, trying to sound bright. “What hospital is she in?”

“Oh! You won’t believe this,” Beth says excitedly. “It’s the biggest hospital in town. Guess.”

“Crestview?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yes, baby!” Beth laughs excitedly. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when their letter came in.”

“I’m glad she’s in good hands,” I say. “Crestview has the best doctors from all over the world. I’ll come around soon to see you guys. I miss you both a lot.”

“I miss you too, baby sis,” Beth says with a catch in her voice. “I can’t wait for you to come back home.”

“I’ve got to go,” I say, eager to wrap up the call less Beth calls out my bluff. “It’s time to administer Carlos’s mid-day medication. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Abby?” Beth calls out just as I’m about to drop the call.

I replace the phone against my ear. “Huh?”

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Beth asks gently.

“Sure,” I reply. “Of course, I’m great.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Beth says. “Bye, sissy.”

I let my hand drop listlessly to my side and finally give in to the pressing urge to cry. I press my lips together hard as the tears stream silently down my face.

I don’t even know why I’m crying.

CHAPTER NINE

Carlos

It’s been a week.

I’ve refrained from talking about my feelings to Abby again. After that first time, things were a little awkward for a while between us, but Abby’s slowly begun to warm up to me again.

We’ve developed a sort of friendship where we talk about the most random things. She tells me about growing up and college life. Surprisingly, she’s never mentioned the bullying and all she went through with those who body-shamed her.

This makes me wonder if she only let go that day because she was drunk. And then, sometimes, she urges me to share stories from my childhood. For her, I’ve tried to dredge up the rare moments that I was allowed to be a child and feel happiness. Surprisingly, those memories also give me a feeling of liberation that I never knew I needed. They’ve got me thinking maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

Slowly, I’m remembering the happier times and moving further away from the darkness of my past. I’ve let those memories shackle me for so long. Abby isn’t only helping me heal physically but also mentally and emotionally – and she’s doing it all so effortlessly.

I mostly like to listen to her talk, though. I like to hear her laugh and watch the animated expressions on her face when she’s engrossed in her tales. She narrates her stories so easily, and with her subtle sense of humor, I soon find myself laughing hard at some silly thing or another.

Sometimes I just want to grab her and kiss the shit out of her. I’ve had to spend my fair share of time in the shower calming my raging libido. I’ve learned that I have to take things really slow with Abby. She needs to ease back into her confidence and realize her self-worth. She needs to see herself through my eyes to believe the things that I feel for her.

Ironically, she’s taught me self-love. And selflessness and patience. In studying her, I’m discovering more of myself.

This evening, we’re lounging lazily on the living room couch with some snacks in front of the TV. Abby seems engrossed in the program, a documentary about wild animals or something. I couldn’t care less about the gorillas or whatever it’s about, though. So, I content myself with watching her from under my lashes while I pretend to read a book on my lap.

She fascinates me.

With each passing day, I get more and more attracted to her. I can’t seem to help myself. The urge to possess her has grown so much that it’s become almost unbearable. I tell myself to wait each time because she deserved to be treated with respect and loved right.

Abby laughs at something on the screen and shakes her head in amusement. The tinkling sound of her laughter shoots straight into my chest, causing my heart to skip a beat.

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