Not My Hero - Michelle Heard Page 0,60
Mom squeezes my arm lovingly. “All you can do is to be there for her.”
I nod just as Brie’s door opens. Both Mom and my gazes turn to Brie. She first glances at Mom then at me, and her eyes are filled with the same pain they always carried when I met her.
Brie’s mother dying, must’ve yanked the scabs off all her wounds.
Mom reacts before I can and wraps an arm around Brie’s shoulders. With everything fresh in Brie’s mind, I worry it will make her panic, but instead, she turns into Mom as her face crumbles.
“Shh… everything will be okay,” Mom coos.
A sob tears from Brie, and my muscles tighten with the need to comfort her. Guiding Brie back into her room, Mom keeps whispering soothing words. I hear her whisper, “Lie down, sweetie.”
No matter how much I want to try to help Brie, deep down, I know she needs my mom more.
I watch them lie down, and Brie curls up into a ball in Mom’s arms. Having to do something, I say, “I’ll make us some coffee.”
Walking to the kitchen, I keep trying to think of a way to make Brie feel better. I make the coffee and placing the mugs on a tray, I carry it to Brie’s room and set it down on the bedside table.
Screw this.
I walk around the bed to the side Brie’s on and lie down behind her. I place my arm over both of them and press a kiss to Brie’s shoulder blade.
God, this is unbearable. Seeing someone you love with all your heart hurt so much is just… torture.
“Cry, sweetie. Let it all out,” Mom keeps whispering.
The sun slowly inches its way through the room as we hold Brie.
Chapter 22
BRIE
Dear me,
My mother died. I guess that’s why I didn’t hear from her again.
Shouldn’t I feel bad? Or at least a little sad?
All I feel is… relief. Does that make me a bad person? Does it mean I’m like her?
Her funeral is tomorrow, and I really don’t want to go. How am I supposed to mourn someone who never showed me any kind of love?
I only remember the hate. I keep seeing the spite in her eyes and the disdain pulling at her mouth.
I can’t remember a single smile.
Not one hug.
Should I pretend to mourn her so people won’t judge me for being an awful daughter? There’s a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach just thinking about going to the funeral.
I know this makes me an awful person, but at least I’ll be done with her once and for all after tomorrow.
I’m sorry I feel this way.
B.
We spent the whole day in bed on Thursday. Friday and yesterday, Colton and I watched one movie after the other while Cassie supplied us with comfort food.
The house, Colton, and Cassie have become a safe haven for me. It feels like as long as I stay here, no one will be able to hurt me.
I sit down on the couch and stare at the coffee table. Memories from the past eighteen years keep haunting me.
“Hey,” Colton murmurs as he sits down next to me.
I lean back and hug my legs to my chest. Resting my chin on my knees, I look at Colton. “Hey.”
He sits back and turns his body toward me. Lifting a hand, he brushes my bangs away from my eyes. “You know you don’t have to go tomorrow, right?”
I nod and let out a sigh. “I’m still in two minds. Part of me wants to forget she ever existed, and the other half wants to go… to get some sort of closure.”
Colton seems to think about something for a moment before he says, “Whatever you want to do. We’ll go with you.”
Worried about my grandparents being there, I murmur, “I’ve never met my grandparents. I don’t know what to say to them.”
Colton tilts his head. “They were never a part of your life, Brie. You don’t owe them anything, so if you have nothing to say to them, then it’s okay. We’ll avoid them.”
“They paid for our expenses,” I admit.
“That doesn’t change anything,” Colton states.
I let out another sigh, not so sure if Colton is right.
He shifts a little closer to me. “Just because my father is paying for everything doesn’t mean shit. It’s his damn responsibility. The same counts for your grandparents. They must’ve known your mother was crazy as hell, and they didn’t do anything to help you.” Anger tightens his features. “If you ask my opinion, they