Chapter 77
“My life’s better because he’s in it,” Jason finished. “I love him. I’m fucking hanging up now. You can read about us like everyone else. Colby, you want to say anything?”
Colby jumped at being spoken to. “I…ah…no, I—yes. What Jason said. Not the parts about me. I’m not—not all of that. But he makes me want to be. And I’m happy when he kisses me. When he holds my hand. If you want—if you ever want—to call and talk, I’ll answer. I still love you. But you don’t get to insult Jason, and you don’t get to tell us it isn’t real. It is. I’ll be out of hospital tomorrow, in case you’d like to know. Otherwise, I’ll phone on your birthday.”
In a different story, with a different outcome, Colby’s mother would’ve apologized. Tearfully recanted. Seen the error of her ways.
The rain let up for a handful of seconds, eavesdropping.
Lydia Sable-Kent said, to Jason, “I dislike the extent of your influence on my son,” and hung up.