Page 40 of Structure of Love
“Gage!You and I are going to have words, young man!”
“I’m going low contact with you.” Might as well cut to the chase. Besides, this way it’d cut short any tirade she wanted to unleash.
Her breath caught in surprise.
I didn’t give her a chance to recover. “I’ll lay this out simply for you. First, I’m tired of being your emotional punching bag. You always flare up at me when Cooper does something wrong, like it’s my fault somehow, and it never is. His actions are his own, and I will no longer bear any responsibility for them. Second, I’m tired of being a pseudofather to my own brother, and a pseudohusband to you. If you’re that unhappy and alone in your marriage, then get a fucking divorce and find someone else, but stop treating me like I’m your husband, like I’m responsible for you. I won’t give you the openings to act this way anymore. I won’t be in charge of your yard maintenance, I won’t take your car in for oil changes anymore, I won’t make phone calls on your behalf to straighten something out. It’s your life, you’re responsible for it, and it has absolutely nothing to do with me.”
“Gage, what’s gotten into you, this isn’t like you—”
“Shut up. I’m not done.”
Another shocked breath, which amused me in a bleak sort of fashion. I’d never talked back to her before. My mistake. Maybe if I’d done this before, she would have realized how badly she was treating me. It was sort of a moot observation now, as it was years too late.
“Low contact means I’m not going to come to Cooper’s rescue anymore. I’m not coming to yours. I will not respond if you come to my door. If, and I do stressif, you manage to behave and not keep trauma dumping on me, then I might see you for Christmas. But you’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces. By earn, I mean actually be a responsible adult for once in your life and don’t try to contact me. Is that clear enough for you?”
She was crying, the tears obvious in the rough quality of her voice, the way her breath hitched. “Why are you being like this?This isn’t you!”
“It’s not the version of me you want, for sure, but I’m tired of being what you want. You’ve worn me out, Mom. I no longer have any care for you. I don’t think I even love you anymore, that’s how badly you’ve treated me. For the record, Cooper acting the way he does is a good fifty percent our fault. Yours, primarily, but I accept responsibility for my part, too. I enabled him instead of letting him figure life out. Like I had to figure life out.”
She openly sobbed now. Then she screamed in rage and frustration.
I cut the call. No need to listen to that and abuse my poor ears.
She called back. I hung up immediately, having nothing else to say to her. She called back just as fast, and we played a wicked fast game of pop-up calls for a minute until she finally paused long enough for me to hit the mute button.
I blew out a breath and sat there, introspective. When I’d planned out this conversation last night and this morning, I’d expected to feel a lot of things: sadness, resignation, maybe shed a few tears myself. This was emotionally hard, cutting myself off from two people my entire world had revolved around for years. My entire life, in fact. I felt this ache in me, this void, as I let go of everything I’d held on to for years.
Then I drew in a breath and found I could fully breathe. I no longer felt a crushing weight—that fear of disappointing people or the fear of ruined plans. Of being called for some emergency.
I feltrelief.
Honestly, I hadn’t felt this light, this liberated, in years. Funny, how we carried around prisons of our own making in ourheads. I’d always had the ability to break free, but it had taken Logan to give me the strength.
My friends had always been supportive, always given me the right advice, but somehow it had never sunk in. Their words had never touched me deeply enough to make me change. Logan, though…Logan knew. He knew from his own experience, and he was able to break it down in such a way that reality penetrated. Thanks to him, I found the strength to let go. Harder than it sounded, for sure, but I was so glad I’d done it.
Cooper called me next, and I answered because I wanted to talk to him directly too. If it was Mom calling, I’d hang up and mute his number as well. I couldn’t bring myself to fully block either of them, but muting meant I could ignore them.
“Bro,” Cooper greeted, and woah, he sounded hungover. “You gotta call Mom, she’s sobbing on the couch like someone died. What did you say?”
“I’m going low contact with both of you.”
He sucked in a startled breath before blurting out, “Because I got high?!”
“No, Cooper, because I’m tired of being treated like your father when you’re not my child. I’m tired of being treated like her husband. I’m tired of you two interrupting my life all the time because you can’t get your shit together. I’m exhausted and it’s entirely your fault. Listen to me—I will not pick up the phone for you anymore. If you get high at a park or land yourself in jail, you can figure it out. I won’t see you even if you come to my door. If you succeed or fail, that’s on you. I might see you on Christmas, if you and Mom can get your acts together, but that’s very much anif. In the meantime, don’t contact me. I won’t answer.”
I ended the call and muted him, too.
Phew! I was proud of myself for laying it all out with Cooper. Strangely, I was angrier with him than my mother, eventhough I knew she was the root cause. Still, Cooper was an adult—supposedly—and he should have taken responsibility for himself. He bore some of the blame.
Wow, I felt even lighter now! Like a lodestone had been lifted off my chest. My stomach no longer churned either. There were days I’d felt nauseous from stress, almost unable to eat, because of those two.
Well. I might get myself a little treat on the way back into the office. After this, I felt I deserved one.
Hopefully my mom and brother would hear what I’d said and not show up at the office or my house to try and strong-arm me. If they did…Well, I had a Zar, and I knew how to use him.
The inspection went well. Nothing turned up problematic, and I was able to sign off on things on the spot, which made my client quite happy. I sent her an invoice before leaving, and she promised it would be paid before end of day.
I got a text from Asher, letting me know they were going for lunch at Lulu’s, asking if I could make it. Perfect. I texted back I’d meet them there and drove straight to the diner. A slice of peach pie would be the perfect little treat for me today.