Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series

I don’t mean to eavesdrop. But when I step out of the bathroom and hear Annie’s voice, I can’t stop myself from walking over and standing next to the partially open bedroom door.

“Sounds like your mom knew what she was doing.” Annie says.

“Yeah.” Sasha replies. “She was pretty great, but there was no way to save those white jeans.”

There’s a stretch of silence and I turn to walk away.

Then Annie’s voice comes again, quieter this time. “How did she die?”

I still, already dreading where this conversation might go.

“Ovarian Cancer. They found it too late and weren’t able to do much to help her. Of course, she didn’t want my brother and I to worry, so she didn’t tell us for the longest time. I was in my first year of college, and my brother was just starting his career as a cop. When we found out, we spent as much time with her as possible. But it wasn’t enough. It never is.”

“At least she loved you.” Annie’s words rip a hole in my chest. “My mom didn’t even want me. She sold me to my dad. She was supposed to be the one to help with this stuff. She was supposed to be here. She was supposed to be my mom.” Annie’s voice breaks and a moment later I hear her soft sobs.

I’m frozen in place. Not sure what to do. I’ve never heard her say anything like this before. I want to run to her. Tell her she’s perfect. Tell her that her mother is the one who’s missing out. That she doesn’t need anyone else when she has me. I want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the world.

But isn’t that what I’ve been doing? What if I’ve been doing the opposite of what Annie needs this whole time? What if I’ve managed to mess up Annie along with everything else?

Sasha’s cooing sounds of comfort float through the doorway. “It’s okay, darling. It’s okay.”

Annie’s voice is muffled but I can still make out the words. “I saw the papers once. That’s how I know what happened. I was still a baby when she sold me to dad. She gave me up for money. Why didn’t she like me? She didn’t even know me. I don’t think she ever tried to see me. And then she died. Dad says she didn’t mean to. That she was sick, and she accidently took too many drugs. But it doesn’t matter does it? She’s gone, and I’ll never get to prove to her that I’m worth it. That she should’ve tried harder to love me.”

My body sags against the wall as my legs give out and I slide to the floor.

“Oh Annie, it’s not that she didn’t love you. Or that she didn’t like you. When someone like that leaves, it’s about them, not you. She just wasn’t ready. It doesn’t mean she didn’t want to keep you, but maybe she couldn’t. You can love someone and still let them go. Especially when it’s the best thing for them. If your mom was sick, then she probably wasn’t in a place where she could take care of you. And your dad loves you so much, I’m sure your mom knew he’d take care of you.”

Annie sniffs. “But she never came back. I was like three when she died. She could have come back.”

“You’re right. She could’ve. It’s okay to be mad at her. You can be angry about what she did. But don’t you dare let her actions make you feel like you’re anything less than perfect. People make decisions all the time that they later regret. They do things they don’t mean. They say things they can’t take back. And sometimes people are too sick to get better. Physically or mentally. But that’s not on you.” Sasha lets out a deep exhale. “My brother and I have different dads. My mom was married to his dad, but he died in a car accident when my brother was about 5. I came along 2 years later. According to my mom, I was the best kind of surprise. But apparently, my dad didn’t agree.”

“He left?” Annie whispers the question.

“Yep. My dad walked out before I was born and as far as I know, he never tried to meet me. I was angry about it for a long time. And I was sad about it for even longer. But after a while I realized that I already had enough. I had an amazing mom who loved me. And even after she was gone, I had my brother. We can’t change what other people do, but we can appreciate what we have.”

“Like my dad.” Annie replies. “I know he can be a bit over the top, but he’s a really great dad.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push down the emotions that are battering around inside my skull.

“He can be a bit over the top.” Sasha agrees. “But I can see how much he loves you. Your dad would do anything for you. It’s easy to forget about the good things we have and focus on the things we wish we had. It happens to everyone, but when it happens to you, remind yourself about all the love in your life. Your dad. Your grandma. Your huge Uncle Angelo. Your friends.”

Annie huffs out a breath. “I’m sorry about what I said to you the other day. I don’t really think you’re trying to get my dad’s money. I was just… I dunno.”

        My head jerks up. What is she talking about? When did Annie say that to Sasha? And why didn’t either of them tell me?

        “No apology necessary.” Sasha says calmly. “I grew up with a single parent, too, remember? I know how it can be. It’s okay.”

Annie mumbles something in reply, but I can’t hear it.

“You can always come to me if you need anything. Even if you just want to vent. I promise not to judge.” Sasha offers.

“What if you and my dad break up?” Annie’s voice doesn’t hide her worry.

I expect Sasha to stumble over her words, deny our history, point out that we aren’t really in a relationship. But she does none of those things.

“Even then, darling.” Sasha replies. “Even then.”

It’s all too much. My barriers crumble around me, as I sit on the floor with my face in my hands and my heart in pieces. How did I let this all get so fucked up? How could I be so blind to Annie’s pain? I’ve sunk to eavesdropping in order to figure out what’s going on in my own family. Only to find my daughter stuck in a battle I didn’t see, relying on Sasha to comfort her. Sasha. The woman I’m beginning to realize I need in my life.

I fight through one ragged breath, then another, trying to gain control of myself.

“Vincent.” I think I’m imagining Sasha’s voice, until I hear it again. “Vincent.”

Sasha’s whispering my name from the bedroom.

With far too much effort, I push myself off the ground and press the door further open. The lamp next to the bed is lit, casting a somber shadow across the room.

Sasha is lying along one side of the bed with Annie curled up and asleep in the middle.

Sasha holds my gaze for a beat before nodding to the open side of the bed. I don’t even pretend to resist. Or deny the fact that I was listening to them. I’m sure my face gives me away, probably looking as haunted as I feel.

Pulling back the comforter, I slide into Sasha’s bed. Sasha and I facing each other, Annie tucked safely in the middle.

When Sasha reaches her hand out to me, I take it.

With our fingers intertwined, and my arm draped over my daughters back, I let emotional exhaustion tug me into sleep.

Mercifully, I don’t dream.