Page 20 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers

The drive home really helps me organize my thoughts and solidify my plan to cut contact with my mother.

Leanne. I should start calling her Leanne now.

It’ll make the break easier the quicker I separate who she is from the role she was supposed to play in my life, because while she did birth me, she hasn’t been a mom to me in a really, really long time.

Maybe I should be more upset about the impending cut, but instead I feel lighter.

It’s truthfully been a long time coming, and soon I won't have to tread lightly around anyone at all. I can embrace who I am and surround myself with those who want to be in my life and support me. I think this is exactly what I’ve needed to do since I left home, but I never had the courage to until now.

Xander obviously doesn’t know about my family, but something tells me if he did, he would have given me the courage to leave my comfort zone and do what needs to be done.

I don’t think he’d be happy to ever see any harm befall me with how possessive he is of me, even this early into…

whatever we are. I feel emboldened and empowered when I’m around him.

Like his forthright attitude rubs off on me and makes me feel strong enough to stand my ground, something I’ve never been able to do well.

When I get home I grab my phone to text him and just as I guessed, my mother has been bombarding me with messages and calls and even a couple of voicemails.

I briefly look at the texts and see that she’s once again given me her usual spiel.

The gist of the messages are the same as always but she’s thrown in a few new ones too. So original.

7:02 pm: I can’t believe you acted like that in front of a guest. My partner, no less.

7:02 pm: I knew I shouldn’t have invited you, you ruin everything. Always have. Like father, like daughter.

7:03 pm: You always try to make me out to be a horrible mother. I can’t believe you tried to sabotage our dinner.

7:04 pm: I bet you did that all on purpose so Simon would want to leave me.

7:15 pm: Your father left because of you, and now you want Simon to do the same. Having you was the biggest mistake of my life.

The messages hurt as they always do, but I delete the call log and her voicemails, not bothering to listen to any of them. Tears well in my eyes at her words but I take a deep breath, exit our text thread, and call Xander. Maybe using him as a distraction is wrong, but I don’t think he’ll complain.

“Hey, if you’re not busy, would you want to come over tonight?”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

It’s just going to be a movie night, totally casual, but my nerves are like livewires right now.

I’m running around my apartment to tidy up because heaven forbid anyone knows I actually live here.

I make sure to brush my teeth and fix my hair before putting on a cute loungewear set.

I want to look presentable but casual, like I’m put together but not trying too hard.

I plop down on my bed and scroll through social media, seeing a news article for a newly discovered dead body.

I click the link and open the full article detailing the gruesome findings of a young woman, apparently the fourth body found recently.

The cause of death for all of the bodies is currently unknown, but they have all been skinned postmortem.

Apparently that is the serial killer’s M.O.

A shudder runs through me as I think over such a fate.

I have learned about a lot of serial killers, but this might take the cake for the most macabre.

I read further and learn the bodies have all been found within an hour’s drive of here and remember the bartender's warning from September. At that point I hadn’t heard of anyone missing or dead, so I didn’t give her much credit.

Sage said she saw something about them briefly, but at that point it was too early for authorities to announce much.

I send Sage the link before closing the article, not needing any more of a damper on the evening.

Checking the time shows Xander should be here, and a quick glance outside gives me a glimpse of him walking up, mouthwatering as always.

He’s dressed in his usual casual attire of jeans and a hoodie that is fitted tight across his broad shoulders.

How a man can look so sexy in something so simple is beyond me.

I open my door as his fist is raised to knock. “Hey, Xander! Come on in,” I chirp brightly.

I’m turning this night around. No more family drama, just snacks, more wine, and relaxation. Maybe some Netflix and chill—do people my age still use that term?

Xander’s form shrinks my apartment and makes it feel a lot smaller than it is. I tell him to make himself comfy while I grab the movie night necessities. When I return, he’s sprawled out on the couch and I smile, trying to act normal, but God, is it hard. He looks like he belongs here.

I fill our wine glasses and ask him what he’d like to watch. “What are you into?” At his smirk, I continue and try not to stumble over my words as I clarify, “I mean, movies: rom coms, horror, thriller, action… ?” I think I’m sweating from embarrassment right now.

“You pick, I’m good with whatever.” Of course he is zero help, so I put on a cringey vampire movie that high school me was obsessed with. It is mid-October, what better way to ring in Halloween?

“Vampires?” He looks at me with amusement and a hint of a smile.

“Hey, you said I could pick whatever, and this is a classic. Have you seen it before?”

He scoffs at that. “Of course not. Sparkly vampires aren’t my thing.”

“What is your thing then? Oh no, you’re into werewolves instead, aren’t you?” My tone comes off slightly teasing with a dash of mock offense as I take a bite of popcorn..

“Do you really want to know what I’m into?” He looks up at me from his wine glass as he takes a drink.

I’m being bold. I’m saying what I mean and meaning what I say now, I remind myself. “Yes, I do.”

I’m scared of the answer but not surprised at all when he says, “You. I’m into you.”

The breath still whooshes from my lungs and I start to fidget, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he says, staring at me with a completely serious expression while leaning in close.

“Okay,” is the only word I can manage. Not my smoothest or most suave move ever. I am such a mess and so out of practice. Get it together. It’s a casual date, not a marriage proposal.

Xander chuckles next to me and turns to face the TV as we settle into the movie.

As it goes on I find myself creeping closer to him until my head is resting on his shoulder, and it feels nice.

Really nice. He wraps an arm around me and I snuggle into him, reveling in the warmth and safety I feel.

The movie soon fades into the background and I decide to ask him about his personal life, knowing absolutely nothing deeper than surface level information about him.

“So, your business must be very successful considering the house you just bought,” I say, internally cringing because I think I might have just made myself sound like a gold digger. He goes a little tense at my comment.

“Yeah, well, I work a lot and I do pretty well for myself. I have a lot of… loyal clients.” He brushes my comment off. Probably for the best, I don’t need him thinking I care about money.

“What do you do for fun? Any hobbies or friends?” I try to steer the conversation into a new direction and away from my blunder.

“I don’t really do fun . I mostly work, and I don’t have much time or need for anything else, including friends. I’m always too tied up with jobs,” he says before swallowing more of his wine.

“I don’t either. I have one really good friend, Sage, but that’s all. I’m a pretty big homebody.” I sound like a loser when I say it. He’s busy with work, I’m busy with absolutely nothing. I could be fun and adventurous, but I'm just not.

“Are you going to tell me about your family?” Not this again. I’m supposed to be asking the questions, not him, and definitely not about this.

“I would rather not, there isn’t much to tell. I’m an only child, my dad left when I was young, and my mother and I don’t have a relationship. She’s just not a great person,” I confess. More than I gave him last time but still vague enough.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I glance at him and his eyes look a little sad.

“Enough about me and my family dynamics. What about yours?” Is his upbringing as fucked as mine was? Unlikely judging by his reaction to mine.

“I have a brother, two years older than me. My mom and dad are still together, and I had a normal childhood. Dad was a teacher and Mom was a nurse. Both are now retired and live in Florida.” Okay, perfect, he has a normal family and I have abandonment issues and probably some PTSD from the narcissistic abuse I grew up with.

I can’t help but feel a little jealous, and now a bit more worried to share just how fucked up my mother really is.

“That actually sounds really nice.” And I mean it.