God, I love being home.
I looked around.
Something about me has grown to love this place so much that I consider it my home. It's crazy how that works.
I mean, I lived with my parents for my entire life, and it took so long for that place to feel like "home," but even then, something still didn't feel right.
And now with a guy I've known for a little over a month. One who has put a target on my back, that has caused me more pain than I should ever feel in this lifetime.
In his house, it feels like a home.
We had gotten back not that long ago, and Isabella was still working on her homework and finishing up stuff while I was on laundry duty.
Like I am this bitches wife, my lord.
In hindsight, most of it is mine, but why am I doing EVERYONE'S LANDRY, INCLUDING MATTEO? LIKE IF YA'LL DONT TAKE YOUR OLD ASSES DOWN HERE AND HELP ME DO THIS LANDRY.
"You good, Ryder?" I straightened up, and I felt a smile grow on my face.
I turned to Isabella. "I'm fine. Did you finish your work?"
"Yes." This kid.
"Liar."
Isabella rolled her eyes. "I will get it done."
"Do it now, and then we can hang out," I said, and she sighed.
"Okay, I will be quick."
"No, do it normally, because I am gonna check it when you're done."
"Bruh," she said, lugging herself back out of the laundry room.
Am I her stepdad?
Wait. Dominic and I aren't married, how does that make any sense?
I felt a hand rub my stomach.
Somehow, that hurt.
We weren't married…like them.
Oh God, here we go.
My ears feel hot, and the pit in my stomach is growing.
I feel.
I feel oddly sick.
Weird.
I lugged the laundry up the stairs to my and Dominic's room and started folding it.
I also found out that Dominic's television has Spotify on it, so that has been keeping me going.
Listening to slutty club songs while I waste away doing chores because I feel some weird obligation towards Dominic, because I am living here rent-free.
Weird.
Shots by LMFAO was currently playing, and now I am so in the mood to get wasted.
I mean, I don't even drink like that, but something in me wants to get turnt all the way up…and also railed on the counter.
Hm. Very weird.
I'm gonna blame the medicine and nothing else.
"What are you doing?" HOLY FUCK!
I whipped around. "You just scared the fuck out of me."
Dom started to laugh. "Sorry, I heard music and was wondering what you were up to."
"Just doing laundry, what are you doing?" I asked, turning my back on him to continue folding laundry.
"Getting ready for my work trip."
"The mafia convention shit?"
"Yep."
"Cool."
Awkward ass conversation.
"I feel like your housewife," I felt myself blurt out, with clean laundry in my hands.
"If you want, I can get a maid to do all of it so you don't have to."
"No, it's fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I just…oh my god." My expression dropped.
"What?" Dominic asked me with a confused look on his face.
"I just had a realization, do you consider me like a woman?"
"Do I consider you a woman?"
"Yeah."
"No. Why?"
"I don't know…I just feel like I am losing my masculinity being with you."
"Because you take it up the ass?"
"You are vulgar, no, I feel like I'm taking all of these traditional 'wife' roles and I'm not saying…" I felt my voice start to fade off. I don't know where I am going with this.
"I don't consider you a woman; you are a man. I don't think you have to act a certain way to be a man, and I think part of me does still find it a little weird that you are a man, but I don't think you are losing your masculinity."
"Okay."
"You sound like you don't believe me? What can I do to make you feel more masculine?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Okay."
I nodded, continuing to fold laundry, then I felt a smack on my ass.
I turned around and gave him this wide-eyed look.
He put his hands up and looked at me with this devious smile. "Your ass looks really good, in a masculine way?"
"Now you just made it weird, get out!" I yelled, pointing at him.
He smiled at me. "Okay, okay."
God, he's a character.
After folding everyone's laundry, I started to drop it off in everyone's respective rooms.
Then I felt myself stumble.
Oh lord, I feel sick.
Like I'm going to throw up.
"Hey, hey…sit down," I heard a voice say.
It was Matteo.
He took the laundry from me and helped me sit down on the couch.
"What's your problem?"
"Nothing, I just feel kind of sick."
"Like physically sick?"
"Yeah, I think it's the medicine," I said, sighing and closing my eyes.
I heard Matteo laugh.
I opened my eyes and slowly turned my head towards him. "Why are you laughing at my misfortune?"
He wasn't looking at me.
Bruh.
I rolled my eyes, and I started to turn my head back to whatever he was looking at, then I felt hot air in my ears. "You sure Dom didn't get you pregnant?" He asked, and then I felt a hand rub my stomach.
"Get the fuck off me!" I said, pushing Matteo off as hard as I could while he cackled.
Fuck I just hurt my arm doing that shit.
"Two things, one I'm a man, and two I just hurt my arm because of you," I mumbled at him.
And I watched as, almost like clockwork, Dominic grabbed Matteo off the couch, got him to his feet, and started yelling at him.
That's why he said that.
To get Dominic riled up and angry for no reason, because that makes sense.
"Keep your hands to yourself bitch, do not touch him," Dominic said as he shoved Matteo.
He turned to me. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Nothing, we were just playing."
"Okay, okay," Dominic said, rolling his eyes.
Getting him angry for no fucking reason.
I stood up, and Dominic put a hand out for me.
"I got it," I mumbled.
Then I walked over to the kitchen and pulled out some medicine that I am praying I can take.
I grabbed some water out of the fridge and took the medicine.
Fuck.
"Ryder!"
I felt myself quickly smile. That was Isabella.
"Yes?"
"I'm done with my homework. Can we hang out now?"
I nodded. "You wanna help me cook?"
"You know I do," she said with a smile.
I love this kid.
After that, we started to cook. She was chopping vegetables, and I was making, well, I don't know what I was making, but I was putting stuff in the pot and hoping for the best.
Fuck, my stomach hurts.
Now I feel.
I feel empty, and I can't explain it.
"Ryder."
"Huh?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I am not. "Sorry, what were you saying?" I asked.
"After this, can you check my work?"
"Yeah, I can," I said with a small smile.
I could never be her mom.
I blinked slowly.
I don't know why I'm thinking about this so much, because I really don't need to be her mom.
But this big part of me feels like…like I'm replacing her and doing a terrible job at it.
I can't explain it.
But that's where the empty feeling and the unexplainable sadness that I can't shake for some reason is coming from.
"Ryder!"
"Huh?"
"You keep spacing out."
"I'm sorry, I'm just tired. What did you say?"
"I finished cutting vegetables."
"Okay, thank you so much, baby," I said with a smile.
She smiled back at me. "For some reason, I like it when you call me that."
I smiled back at her. "You're just saying that to make me feel good."
"No, I'm being serious, it feels nice… it's like…like you're my mom in a way."
That should feel good.
It should feel great.
But the thought of that makes me sick to my fucking stomach, and makes my throat close up.
"We will just stick to Dad's fiancé for now," I said with a smaller smile.
I couldn't replace her.
"I know we haven't really known each other that long, but you have just this warmth and kindness that my dad could never have because he's… he's well, him. I feel like, you know me and you wanna spend time with me, and you are not just spending time with me because you're my dad or you're my dad's best friend, like you actually want to spend time with me, and that…that well, feels good. It feels really good. Kind of like a mom…or what a mom should be," she said with a small smile.
I put the pot down, and I turned around and gave her a big hug.
"I'm sorry about your mom, I really am."
"It's okay, I don't even remember her that well," she said as I squeezed her.
I pulled back and tried not to sob. "I don't wanna replace her, I don't. But whatever you want me to be, I will be. Whatever you want me to do, I will do."
She smiled at me.
"You look just like your dad," I said with a small smile.
"Moment ruined, I don't wanna look like his ugly ass."
"Hey, your daddy's handsome."
"You're just saying that," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, whatever. While the food cooks, you wanna walk around the house with me so my legs don't completely fall apart?" I asked, and she nodded with a smile.
After that, we walked around the house for a little while and shit-talked her dad and the fuck ass kids in her class, and I now have beef with a bunch of literally children.
Then dinner went by quickly, and we all had a bunch of meaningless conversations that I zoned out of. After about 30 minutes, everyone went back to doing their own things, and I was almost done washing all the dishes.
But I can't get that woman out of my head.
I can't.
I know she was gorgeous.
She had to be.
She was perfect for him.
She was everything that I'm not.
I put the dish I was washing down and quickly ran to the nearest bathroom.
I shut the door, leaned over the toilet, and felt myself vomit.
Oh my lord.
I sat down on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
How long were they even together?
I wonder if she hadn't walked out on him, would they still be together?
I groaned.
Of course they would, that's a dumb question. They were married and had a kid for crying out loud.
And where the fuck would I be? Huh?
Probably living the same stupid life for the rest of my days.
I would still be at home taking the brunt of all my dad's anger and protecting my siblings.
To be honest.
I don't think I would have ever left.
I would have been stuck there for the rest of my life.
I would have taken care of my parents until they died, and then I would babysit my nieces and nephews from time to time.
I don't think I would have ever found someone, and I would have probably ended up back at that place, doing the same shit until I physically couldn't anymore.
And even then, I would still find a way to do it. Doing truly anything for the money.
I probably would have knit so many sweaters.
So many sweaters that people would pretend to like and then throw away.
I would also take on all of my parents' debt.
I would take on all of their burdens I already had.
And they would only let me stay with them because they knew I would take care of them.
I wonder if I would have ever gone back to school, to acting school, done something.
And take on more unpayable debt for my family? I don't think so.
I would still have no licenses, still be a disappointment, still be a whore.
Maybe I would have killed myself.
Either shot myself dead or jumped somewhere and prayed my parents and siblings didn't find me.
I would have written a letter saying I ran off with someone.
They knew my body was tainted, so they wouldn't go after me. Me and some pimp I would have run away with.
They knew then I wasn't their son anymore.
But god, I never wanted to do any of that.
I really didn't.
Or maybe I would have overdosed, done something like that, and locked myself in my bedroom.
It'd be a couple of days until anyone came knocking.
They would just think I was bed rotting.
And then, when groceries weren't being bought, and my siblings needed to be taken places, and there was no food on the table, they would come check on me.
Then they would come worry.
Only after I was no longer of use to them.
Then they would find my body sitting there. My cold, dead body slumped on the floor.
I wonder if they would call someone. I wonder if they would do anything. Do anything besides stare and feel the obligation to cry.
Or maybe, I think I would have jumped off the suicide bridge near our house and let my body float down the river.
That's less of a burden for my parents, for my siblings.
Then they have the false promises that I am still alive, still thriving, still me.
Never the dead body in the river.
Never.
Just the rebel chain-smoking dropout who knits sweaters.
Never the kid with a dream, a kid who wanted to be on the stage.
Just the fucking loser who dropped out and doesn't even have the brain power to fucking get a driver's license.
I stood and rubbed my eyes.
Then I flushed the toilet, I walked back to the kitchen, and finished washing dishes.
I wonder if anyone here would notice if I were gone.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and started to walk.
Now my mind is starting to race.
There was this room right next to the living room.
I never went in it, I never saw anyone go in it, and I never even thought about it, but for some reason I'm standing in front of it now.
I felt myself push it open, and next thing I knew, I was sitting down staring at a family picture book.
There she was.
Of course, she was beautiful.
The more pages I flipped, the more the knot in my throat started to grow.
The tears started to fall as I stared at the picture of them smiling in college.
The pictures of them at the beach.
Everything.
They were perfect.
She was perfect, and I'm fucking pathetic.
I held the book in one hand, just staring at it as I picked at my nails, as the photo of her played over and over in my mind.
Her radiant smile.
Her beautiful hair.
She was his everything.
I don't think I can ever replace that.
Replace the feelings he felt with her.
God, I wonder if she was this insecure, this crazy, insecure, staring at photos like a pathetic fucking bitch.
Questioning if life would be better if she just killed herself, or imagining her life without Dominic.
Probably not.
She was…"What the fuck are you doing?!" I heard a voice yell, and I felt myself shut the book and quickly stand up.
It was Dominic.
Then, like clockwork, I felt the book slip from my hands, and with it, the pictures came out.
And I watched as part of the cover shattered as it hit the floor.
Dominic bent over to pick it all up, and all I could do was stand there and stare at him.
Stare at him like a fucking moron.
I itched my arm as I watched him shove the pictures back into their places and then put the book back in the bookshelf where I had grabbed it from.
I watched as he shut the door.
Fear.
I feel fear.
"I'm going to ask you again, what the fuck are you doing?" His voice made me feel small and terrible.
"I don't know," I mumbled.
"Bull fucking shit, why are you in here?"
"I don't know." The same words came out of my mouth.
I felt him grab both of my arms, not even being mindful of the one with the cast, and he started to scream illegible words in my face.
I wonder if he ever grabbed her like this.
I wonder if he ever screamed at her like this.
"I didn't mean to drop the book, I didn't," I said, barely choking the words out.
"And I take it you also didn't mean to be in here, right?"
"I really didn't, it's like, almost like."
He rolled his eyes. "I really don't wanna hear it, I don't. I don't need you in here, looking through my family shit, breaking stuff my grandmother made me just because you don't know."
"I didn't mean to break it."
"Well, you did."
I made eye contact with him; his dark brown eyes almost looked black when he was angry.
He let out a breath. "You and these eyes, don't look at me like that."
"I was spacing out, I was spiraling, and I didn't mean to come in here, I swear I didn't. I just, after I threw up, I started…"
He cut me off. "When did you throw up?"
"After dinner."
"Why didn't you tell me that?"
"I was spacing out. And I was insecure and jealous and…and I was wondering what your life would have been like if you never met me and how perfect it would have been and then I remembered this room and next thing I knew the book was in my hand and there she was and I just couldn't help but cry." My voice was cracking. "Cry about the fact that I can't be her, can't be her for you, can't be her for Isabella. I can't be 'her' for the two people who need her the most, and I'm sorry I didn't mean..."
He hugged me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. Oh my god, I'm sorry," he mumbled. He pulled back. "I keep all of the things I don't wanna remember in here, and you didn't know. And I'm sorry for yelling at you; that was pathetic and very immature of me."
I made eye contact with him again.
"You look so sexy when you cry." He said, and I hit him lightly.
Trying to change the subject.
Trying to keep my mind from running away from itself.
And it's working.
Even just for a moment.
"Shut up…about the book, I can probably fix it."
"Don't worry about it, I'm begging you, don't worry about it. I need to move on from the past, I do."
"But…"
"It's okay," he said, and he kissed my eyelids.
"I am sorry for grabbing you like that. I'm sorry. I've been very stressed out today, and just this whole room is full of bad memories too, and I'm sorry," he said as he started to kiss where he grabbed.
"You don't need to do that," I mumbled, and he brought me in for another hug.
"My bad day doesn't excuse my yelling, and I'm sorry."
After that, we hugged for a little bit, and then he pulled back.
"Even if that woman is dead or alive, you are the only person I want."
"You're gay."
Dominic's smile grew wider and wider as his expression changed into one I knew all so well at this point. "Oh hell no, stop looking at me like that," I said, and I felt him lift me up.
"Don't blow your back out now."
"Almost did," he said, and I smiled at him.
"Is it bad that you crying makes me wanna make out with you?"
"That's so bad, especially in this room," I said, and for some reason, my hands wrapped around his neck.
"I've been straight my entire life, and you look very manly in my arms, and that makes me wanna kiss you more, does that make me gay?"
"Yes," I said, laughing as I started to kiss him, and then the two of us started to fully make out as his hands started to feel up my ass.
He stopped kissing my lips and then made his way to my neck.
"Watch out for more hickies."
"I don't know what that is," he said, mumbling into my neck as he started to leave more hickies.
"You liar, we talked about this at your parents' house," I said, and he just started laughing. Then I pointed to my neck. "You see the red marks on my neck?"
"Yeah."
"That's a hickey."
"Oh shit, really," he says, pulling back off my neck and continuing to kiss me.
"Can I leave some lower?" he asks, pulling back off my lips and trying to get my shirt off. Oh my god, he is so irritating.
"No, no, no, we already shouldn't be kissing in here, we are not having sex in here, too," I said, pointing at him, and he gave me this incredibly sexy smile. Sexy ass.
"On second thought," I said and went right back to kissing him.
"Change of heart?"
"Yes, with that sexy ass smile," I said as I shoved my tongue down his fucking throat.
He pulled back. "Okay, okay, we can continue this later, baby, I swear, but you are hurting my back."
I started to laugh as he put me down lightly.
Maybe sometimes you just have to live in the moment.
He opened the door for me.
I let out a long sigh.
Someone go get me a gun.
"Y'all have fun?" Leo asked with a smile.
"A blast," I said and turned around to a mortified Dom.
"We are having a family movie night, Dad."
I pulled him over to the couch, sat next to him, and Isabella sat next to me.
"Princess, you don't wanna sit next to me?" Matteo asked Leo.
"I would rather die," Leo said, and sat on the opposite side of the couch next to Dominic.
Dominic turned his attention to the TV. "There is no way we are watching the 2018 Grinch," Dominic said.
I squeezed his thigh. "It's not even Christmas!"
"Bruh, if you don't calm down and watch the movie," Isabella said, clicking play on the movie.
I rubbed his thigh and smiled at Dominic.
He smiled back at me, and then he kissed the side of my neck. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, I really am."
"I'm sorry for snooping."
"It's not your fault," he muttered and kissed my neck again.
"Shut up," Isabella said, and I started to laugh.
"Sorry, sorry," I said and cuddled up against Dominic.
Oddly enough, this feels good.
It's not perfect.
We fight.
We bicker.
But we have our moments.
These great moments that outweigh it all and make me feel loved.
Moments that make me not want to have my family find my body.
Make me feel less sad.
Make me not feel like a replacement.
Make us feel like a big, weird family.
And it's great.
It really is.
And I wouldn't change it for the world.
I leaned closer to Dominic.
Not for the world.