Page 116 of Twisted (Never After)

I thought about driving to my mother’s house and seeing her in person one last time. All night long, as I was holding Yasmin in my arms, comforting her loss of her father, I imagined what it would feel like if the shoe were on the other foot.

If I lost my mother suddenly, would I cry? Would I feel pain? All that came was longing for the freedom it would provide.

She doesn’t deserve my time in person. I’m protecting myself and the little boy who’s still living and breathing somewhere deep inside my soul from ever dealing with her abuse again.

People only have the power you give them, and I’m done giving her mine.

She picks up on the second ring.

“Do you remember when I was little?” I ask instead of saying hello. “And you had to take me to the hospital because I had a broken femur?”

“Are you not even greeting your mother now?” she complains.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know. You were sick a lot back then.”

“No.” Anger bubbles like a cauldron deep in my chest. “You don’t get to do that. That femur break was from when you stomped on my leg so hard it fractured, remember?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she interrupts.

“You were mad because I got straight As on my report card and it was the first time ever that Papà said he was proud.”

She scoffs.

“Proud ofme. Not of you,” I finish, disgust filling me up until it bleeds from my pores. “You always were a jealous bitch.”

“Howdareyou— ” she starts.

I cut her off. “I’m no longer interested in entertaining this relationship.”

She lets out a laugh. “Please, Julian. I’m your mother.Family.”

I won’t lie; her words have the intended effect. They sink into me like hooks, trying to reel me back in, but then I remember what real family is. What it feels like when someone chooses you over everyone else.

My family is Yasmin, and that’s all I’ll ever need.

“For years, I felt responsible for you,” I say.

“Good,” she replies.

I shake my head, my eyes growing glossy and my stomach burning like acid. “Five years old and I was your protector. But who was there to protectme, Ma? Huh?”

“Look, vita mia, I’ve made mistakes just like anyone— ”

“You can keep the house, although I doubt you’ll be able to afford it. But we’re done. Do you hear me, Ma? We’re done.”

“You’d cut your own mother off?”

“You havenoidea what I’m capable of.” My fingers dig into the side of my phone. “Contact me again or bother my wife, and I’ll pay you back for every single pound of flesh. Don’t push me, Anita.”

I hang up the phone, blowing out a sigh of relief and running a trembling hand over my face. Invisible chains lift from my shoulders, breaking the tether I felt to her for so many years.

Some people say that family is family, blood is blood. ButIsay that toxic is toxic, and no one is more important than my inner peace, even if it means I lose them for good.

I’ve tried not to bother Yasmin too much today, giving her the space she needs to feel whatever it is she’s feeling and grieve, but the few text messages Ihavesent her have gone unanswered, so there’s a niggling feeling that’s curling around my middle, urging me to hurry home and make sure that she’s okay.

I pull into my garage and walk inside, noticing immediately that the house feelsoff, and that gut feeling that I’ve had all afternoon about Yasmin grows stronger. I walk through the back hallway from the garage and go immediately up the stairs, walking to our bedroom and peeking inside. I don’t see Yasmin, so I turn back around and walk into Isabella’s enclosure, making my way over to where she’s lazing on one of the tree branches.