Chapter Thirty Four

Reagan's POV

The last time I've seen my mother was a few months ago, when Bryson, Ciara and I went to have dinner at that expensive restaurant.

She wasn't alone at that time, and my chest tightened as if someone had a steely grip on it, seeing at the sight of her new-found happiness. She was with her new husband (whatever his name is, and I wouldn't care less if he was now my step-dad) and - swallowing a huge lump that lodge up my throat - cradling a baby boy in her arms.

My half blood kin.

That thought alone had me fuming, that pent up rage of remembering the abandonment, the lies, for turning the blind eye of the abuse and that bitter taste of resentment slowly edging at the tip of my tongue as I watched her walk towards my bed.

As I fixed her a cold gaze, I had to admit that she looked better. Her once dull caramel colored hair was now shiny and vibrant, her soft facial features were beaming with sickening joy. Today she had on jeans, a ruffle collared blouse and had put on minimal makeup.

Heaven forbid she almost blinded me with her radiance.

"Happy Birthday, Reagan," she greeted brightly. I noticed that she was carrying a paper bag - probably a gift - and if giving me a gift would soften me up, I don't think so.

"Why are you here?" I asked her, lacing my tone with pure ice.

She smiled warmly, unfazed with my icy tone.

"For your birthday, of course."

How could she smile so warmly after what she has done to me? To her own daughter who cried, pleaded and longed for her a thousand times through her pained eyes to deliver salvation, and here she is, smiling like nothing had happened between us.

Was she that callous that even though two years had passed, I'd forget about it? Did she think forgive and forget applies to where we stand?

If she does, then, she's wrong. When someone goes through a lot of shit like I did it's not easy to put it past the hurt and the pain.

Nothing is never easy.

I snorted. "Uhuh, yeah right. Whopti-freaking-do."

"Ma cherie," Derek warned sternly, shooting me a gaze that meant 'don't try anything stupid'. "Don't talk to your mother like that."

'Is he for real?!' I thought in disbelief. Derek knew the deal between my mom and I and I hadn't forgotten his wise words about forgiveness and all that bullshit. If he expects me to break out a happy smile and run like the wind towards my mother's arm, he's crazy.

'Yes, I am for real, Reagan, and no I am not crazy,' he said into my head. 'Now stop acting like a brat and talk civilly to your mother.'

'Get the fuck out of my head, Derek,' I spat angrily into his mind.

'Your mind is like an opened book right now,' he said.'You didn't put up defenses, so it was easy to get in and read your thoughts.'

He added, 'And watch your language, young lady.'

"You can't tell me what to do, Derek," I said to him, ignoring his last statement in my head as anger seeped into my voice. "You are not my father and that woman." I pointed a finger at my mother, "just stood by and watch as that bastard brought hell into my life in a form of a slaps, kicks and punches."

He sighed heavily. "Reagan, baby, just set your resentment aside and talk to your mother," he reasoned. "You need this, and bloody hell! you need your mother."

"But I don't need her!" I roared, getting out of my bed and distanced myself from them.

"I have Luke, who is my dad," when I emphasized the word dad, my mom flinched. 'Good,' I thought. I was not in the mood for sugar coating. "And he is all I'll ever need. She has a new family and I'm useless to her now."

At this point, my breathing was ragged, my emotions going on a downward spiral. It felt like I was falling into an abyss of chaos and turmoil and right now, one particular thought remained still in my head:

What possessed Derek to think this would be good for me?!

As seconds, minutes of tense silence passed, my mother finally spoke with so much pain, and to be honest, my knees almost wobbled.


Almost.

"I'm sorry."

Silence.

My mother went on, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you. I'm sorry I didn't do something," she dropped the paper bag to the floor, rushed towards me and gripped both sides of my arms tight.

I shrugged her hold off of me. "Don't touch me," I sneered at her.

She flinched but let it go as her hand dropped to her sides and went on with her tirade of apologies. " I was stupid and most of all, I'm sorry for not being a good --"

"I heard it all!" I screamed at her and unknowingly, a tear rolled down my cheek as I gazed into my mom's pained eyes. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her and so many words to say, but I need to know why she did what she did..

"But why, momma?" I choked out. "Why did you do this to me?"

I felt like I was a little kid all over again as I called her momma.

She closed her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "I... I, ah... I was scared," she croaked out as she opened her eyes and tears fell down her cheek.

I frowned. "Scared?" I asked and she nodded. "Of what?"

She took a deep breath, stepped back and stared at my pale blue eyes.

"When you were eight years old," she began, "Michael found two birth certificates while he was looking for a very important document - probably work related - in our bedroom," she laughed humorlessly. "I thought I hid them as discreetly as possible, but I guess I didn't."

"What about those birth certificates?" I asked, confused where this is heading. "And why two?"

She sighed. "I had to have two, for all intents and purposes," she said, smiling sadly. "The first birth certificate bearing Luke's name was a genuine copy. The other one, however," she paused, grimacing a bit, "bearing Michael's name is fake. When he questioned me about it, I knew that I couldn't keep it a secret any longer, so I told him the truth."

"And that started the abuse..." I breathed out, the pieces falling into place. "That's why he blamed me."

She nodded. "That's right, and I was scared and afraid. I was a weak woman and I felt so pathetic. I know it was my fault. Everything was my fault, but like I said, I was scared. I really am sorry, baby." At the last part, she broke into a sob, her hand shot to her mouth to muffle the sound.

"You were supposed to..." I dragged, not able to produce the next words out of my mouth.

"I k-know... I-I k-k-know..." she choked on each sob. "For that, I wanted to ask for your forgiveness."

All those years of bruises, concussions and broken bones, it was all because of the truth that she kept from that man who had hurt me. I still hated her, I really did with all my might and I know it hurts that she stood idly by; I wanted to scream, shout at her for being so irresponsible.

Swallowing a big lump on my throat, the goodness in me wanted to forgive her and say it's okay but the wounded, broken girl in me, wanted to say no. I was still angry, hell bent for her to suffer that I wanted her to go crawl in a hole and die for all I care.

However, Derek was right that no matter what, she will always be my mother but its not easy to forget a memory that is so painful such as this.

As I approached my mom, I hesitated if I should do any physical contact but decided against it. I still have that bitter taste of resentment encompassing my every being but for how long am I going to carry it with me? True, the abuse had scarred me for life but...

Words had already been spoken.

Reasons were now had stand corrected.

Sometimes, we need to grow up, slowly but surely and I'll do it with baby steps.

But If I had to do it gradually, I had to start somewhere but like I said, its not going to be easy.

"I'm so-s-so sorry, Reagan," she croaked out, her voice hoarse from the crying. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me."

"I still hate you but..." I paused, taking a deep breath. 'I'm going to kick myself for saying this,' I thought to myself. "... I'll try to forgive you," I told her, wincing. "However, just give me time to put it behind me but I can't make guarantees. It might take me months, years but I will put it past behind me."

"I know... " she croaked out. "It's better than nothing and I will wait till you fully forgive me."

My gaze landed on Derek, who was sitting on my bed with a small smile on his face. I wanted to say any colorful names under the sun for doing this behind my back, without the knowledge that he had invited my mother but at the same time, I felt gratitude that he wanted me to have closure from all the pain.

"Thank you," I mouthed to him. I knew Derek had the best intentions and yet, I'm slightly pissed but I'd get over it, eventually.

And in my head I said to him, 'But, I'm still mad at you for going behind my back.'

'I know you are angry,' he said into my head. 'But I'm not sorry for doing it.'

'And I'll get over it.'

That, I will.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As planned, I cooked like a hurricane on red bull in Derek's top of the line kitchen. I had so much to request - mostly from Cooper and my dad, and who am I to deprive them with their favorites? Ryder was just silent as he observed all of us on the side, though he made a request through telepathy. He didn't want to appear eager or enthusiastic as he wanted to make me his favorite dessert, Tiramisu, and I had to admit, he was so adorable even though he was brooding. Mom knew that dad was here, but she said before she came to talk to me that they had their own talk as well. Dad was really mad that mom kept me from him, his own daughter, but she made him see reason. He is still mad at her, but in time, he will eventually forgive her.

I had introduced Derek to mom as my boyfriend. Like any parent, they would dive into the whole typical questions like: "What are your intentions with my daughter?" or "Are you certain you can make her happy?"

She even said, "Hurt my daughter and I will castrate your balls with my bare hands."

It's funny to think that she had the first hand experience in hurting me herself and she had the audacity to threatened Derek. I didn't say anything though. I just kept that thought to myself but Derek knew what I was thinking as he cast me a wry glance. I need to ask my dad how to block him out of my head. I value privacy and if he by any chance went into my head and I was fantasizing him naked, then, I'm screwed.

Mom also thanked him profusely for taking me in. Another shocking revelation was that she actually looked for me high and low with Bryson and Ciara. From her search, she never gave up looking for me and through that she had met her current husband, Ben, and year after, they had a baby boy, Clarence. I admit, seeing her talking about them with love with her eyes had me jealous.

However, I am trying to be civil and I was tired of this emotional roller coaster rides.

After dinner, Cooper made us go to the living room because he had a surprise. I pestered him for it and he said, "Just wait and see."

I wonder...

What the hell is he going to do?

Knowing Cooper, being the troublemaker and all, it could be something I wouldn't expect him to do.

Upon entering the living room, I noticed there was a stool near the sound system, with a guitar leaning on the stool's legs. We all took our seats, with me next to Derek on the four seater couch and snuggled next to him.

Cooper walked over to the stool, lifted the guitar, and sat down, getting himself comfortable. He propped the guitar on his lap, positioning his fingers on the chords and finally, he said, "Okay, this is actually a request from my stupid best friend, because for the life of him, he can't sing, so he made me do this. So, Reagan, sweetheart, this is for you."

He strummed the introductory notes and he started to sing:

"You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You feel like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much"

Oh my lord.

Cooper is singing Can't Take My Eyes Off You, and I have to admit, he can really carry a tune.

As I looked up to Derek, he was smiling down at me and said, "I know you didn't want me to spend something for your birthday, so this is the next best thing to not spending a dime as you requested."

"At long last love has arrived.

And I thank God I'm alive.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you."

"Happy Birthday, ma cherie," Derek said to me softly.

"Pardon the way that I stare.

There's nothing else to compare.

The sight of you leaves me weak.

There are no words left to speak.

But if you feel like I feel.

Please let me know that it's real.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you."

"Thank you, Derek," I said to him, "for making my birthday a memorable one."

"I need you baby, and if it's quite all right,

I need you baby to warm a lonely night.

I love you baby.

Trust in me when I say: OK"

As Cooper went for the chorus, Derek mouthed the lyrics, still looking at me.

"Oh pretty baby, don't let me down

I pray.

Oh pretty baby, now that I found you, stay.

And let me love you, oh baby, let me love you..."

Smiling at him, I said, "I love you."

He smiled softly. "As I love you."

I glowered at him. "But you're still in big trouble for going behind my back," I told him.

He gave me a sheepish smile as a response.