Desire (Twisted Hearts Duet Book 1) by Max Henry

Author:Max Henry [Henry, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Max Henry
Published: 2018-01-21T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

Belle

An existential crisis—that’s what I’ve been told this is called. That point where you don’t know what to do, which road to take… which one will lead to a better future. Cerise moved in on Monday, and for the entire week I’ve wished for some miracle that would make her realise the whole thing were a mistake and leave. Because if she doesn’t, I just might.

I never wanted her back. Not when she left the first time, not now. Some things never change, and my lack of love for my mother is one of those.

“You realise this is your fault, don’t you?”

Zeus messaged to say he’s on his way home from work, and Dad has not long left for his night shift. Cerise is almost through her first bottle of wine, her words beginning to slur as she jabs her mostly empty glass at me.

“I drank before you came along, sure,” she rambles. “But I had control of it. After you were born, though…” She huffs a bitter laugh. “Christ. You wouldn’t shut up for the first few weeks. Cried, and cried, and cried.” She waves her arms around as she talks, moaning the words. “You were a handful from the get go.”

As the days go by, it seems more and more likely that her return coincides with a need to have someone to look after her. I can’t shake the feeling that she’s taking Dad for a ride, taking advantage of his good nature. I wouldn’t put it past the woman, that’s for sure. I might not have known much about my mother since she left when I was so young, but I learnt enough from the things Dad told me to know that Cerise doesn’t do anything unless it’s to her benefit.

She’s a user. In every aspect of the word.

I glance over the top of my phone as she leans her head back to take a sip of the wine. Cerise doesn’t look like what I imagine a mother should. Pressure makes her veins stand out against her pallid skin, the words she speaks to me gritted out through a stiff jaw. There’s no softness, no comfort. Nothing that I longed for as a kid.

I clearly didn’t miss out on anything, not having her around.

“What are you going to do with yourself now school is over?” she asks, her hand shaky as she pours another glass.

“I’ve contacted a few shops about placement as an apprentice.”

Dad thinks I should jump straight into what I want to be doing and not waste time saving cash at a regular job for school leavers, like the supermarket, or a takeaway joint. He has a point, in that I should focus on my chosen career rather than waste time in a job that doesn’t help me learn or grow in my preferred field. So I started to contact the artists I’ve followed for years on social media, asking for placement.

A bold step, yeah, but nobody got anywhere by sitting on their hands. The

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