Read For Our Son: A BWWM Parenting Romance For Adults for Free Online Page B

from the fact
that I messed everything up, back then, I have to deal with the fact that now…I
don’t know, maybe Matthew wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me. The
only thing that gets me through is that I was such a screw-up that he has to be
better off without me…even if it means he doesn’t have Grace either."
     
    "Ryan, you can’t believe…"
     
    "Mom, I have to get to work so…" Ryan cleared his throat. All
of a sudden he’d gotten very emotional. "I’ll come back later to get my
camera and stuff. I don’t have time to pack it up."
     
    "Yeah, okay." Ms. Stewart tried to hug Ryan as he hustled out
of the apartment but he was too quick for her. He hurried through the door and
shut it behind him. His mother was left alone…with the videotape.
     
    Chapter ten
     
    "What are you doing?" Morgan asked as she entered Grace’s bedroom.
     
    "Purging. There's way too much junk in here. It's driving me nuts,”
Grace said as she tossed a shirt over her shoulder.
     
    "What is all this stuff?" Morgan crinkled her nose at the
out-of-date fashion that adorned the floor. "Is that a picture from
prom?"
     
    "I don’t know. I’m not actually looking at the stuff. That would
take forever."
     
    Morgan gasped when Grace said that. "You might throw something
important away!" she began going through Grace’s spoils.
     
    "See, look." She held up a picture of Grace and Ryan. They
were at a restaurant and were making funny faces at the camera. "You can’t
get rid of this."
     
    "Throw that away. No, tear it up, then throw it away,” Grace
ordered.
     
    "Grace," Morgan sighed. "You love this picture."
     
    "I do not love it. Look at me in that picture. I look
horrible."
     
    "I think you look cute."
     
    Grace didn’t bother to respond. She simply removed the picture from Morgan’s
grip and added it to her trash pile.
     
    "I think you’re making a mistake. You’re going to regret this, Grace."
     
    "I am not. I should have done this a long time ago. The sooner I
completely purge Ryan Stewart from my life, the better. Because if I don’t, a
few years from now, I’ll be going through this all over again," Grace was
angry. "This always happens to me. Ryan is like a magnet that draws me
back to the low points of my life. I can’t keep going there."
     
    "If I remember correctly, you told me that Ryan was a highlight of
your life."
     
    "Morgan, please. Just…let me do this, okay? I need to do
this."
     
    "Fine, but on one condition. I want all those pictures. You’ll
never have to see them again, but please don’t throw them away."
     
    "Oh please. Like you still have pictures of your exes."
     
    "I have a few…mostly of Dylan."
     
    Grace knew that wasn’t true. Under no condition would Morgan have kept
pictures of Dylan, her on-again-off-again boyfriend for most of her young adult
life. Despite that, she didn’t argue. Instead she handed a box of photographs
to Morgan and stated that she never wanted to see them again. As long as they
were out of her sight that was fine with her.
     
    "I have to ask, though," Morgan put the pictures aside,
"Why’d you bother to bring all this stuff with you? It’s all, like, ten
years old."
     
    "I didn’t want to leave it at home. I thought it would be of some
use to me,” Grace answered.
     
    Morgan decided not to press for more information. She watched Grace for
a little while longer before suggesting the two go out on the town. After all,
Thursday night was a huge party night.
     
    Grace surprised Morgan with her answer. "I can’t. I have a date,” Grace
said.
     
    "With who?"
     
    "Marshall."
     
    "The stalker?" Morgan could not believe her ears.
     
    "He’s not a stalker. Just an oven-enthusiastic friend."
     
    "Grace, this is the guy who bought you lingerie after your first
date,” Morgan reminded her.
     
    "He knew it was my favorite color." Grace made an excuse.
     
    "What about that shrine he made of you? He’d been watching you