I open the door in haste and without saying 'Hello, long time no see, want some coffee?', I go "To the bathroom!"

My mother peers at me with almost teary eyes and I honestly hope that's because of the smell "Nathan-"

"The bathroom!" I growl, hoping to fix one family drama before another one starts. I push the door and it closes behind her, almost squeezing her between the doorframe, as I quickly scatter towards the bathroom. "It's in there..." I say breathlessly, slowly coming up with a plan how am I gonna pull this off after she's done with the little shit prick.

She stops in front of it and glances up at me "Nathan, listen-"

"No! No! Later!" I brush her off quickly, partly because there's a smelly screaming baby in the next room and partly because I ain't dealing with that emotional luggage just yet.

My mother gives me a pointed look that stopped working on me the week when daily there was a different man having breakfast with us, Daniel, May and me.

"Okay." She says and goes in.

I am shocked, surprised and delighted when I don't hear her screaming in agony. I guess this comes naturally to women.

She takes her time with Devon and thankfully, at some point he stops crying endlessly. I don't know what she did, but I like it.

But honestly, what was I thinking? I could've called who-knows-who, even Justine would be a much better choice than my fucking mother!

God knows what she's gonna make out of it, maybe that I've forgotten everything from the past, or that I actually trust her, like Daniel and May do. The thing is, they weren't as exposed to her merry adventures as I was, but I was and am not planning on forgiving her for neglecting her own children anytime soon.

As I think about this, I come to a conclusion, I'm a huge douchebag, calling out for her to help me and then just dismiss her. But I don't feel guilty, not even one bit. I recall many times when I, Daniel or May needed her and she was nowhere to be seen. But if May and Daniel were in trouble, I'd step forward, while I had no one to do it for me.

Whenever they called from school to talk to her about me fighting with other kids, beating the shit out of them, she barely budged and her usual response was she'd talk it out with me. She never asked why did I hit them. If she did that, she'd maybe realise how much all of us needed her after Dad moved to Chicago. Maybe she'd see how bullied May was on a daily basis or how lonely Daniel felt until he came to high school.

Sometimes, when I can't sleep at night, I wonder what does she think when she looks at the photos of us.

'Ah, my boy, Daniel. My youngest, who spent a lot of time with his big brother. And May, my only daughter. She married with some athletic guy, a jock. Nathan, my first-born. I think he works at one of the big companies.'

After I've already finished college and was working as a pathetic engineer's assistant's assistant's assistant, Daniel managed to talk me into coming to all-family lunch. That year, was the last year I attended it because I always ended up arguing with our mother, usually over some memories. I always kept my mouth shut at the event, waiting for the time to pass by and go to a club, hook up with a girl and have hell of a good time, but when Patty (of course, who else) brought up some old photos of us, which Daniel kept at home, I noticed how many things Dad remembered and how many Mum did.

When he saw a picture of one time he visited and we played baseball, he'd say "I remember this. Nathan, you had the irresistible urge to keep batting that ball at May and you pulled Daniel into it, as per usual. Some big bad brother you were, son. Thankfully, we didn't end up at the E.R. and we finished our picnic in peace."

But when pictures landed in Mum's hands she'd say "You look like you had a good time." despite the fact that May was a real-life babbling machine and told everything to everyone.

When it came to moments like those, I couldn't keep my mouth shut and I always went with something similar like "Surely, you remember. If my memory serves me right, that big guy Shawn was screwing you. Then the next day, I think it was Ron and the day after that his cousin."

And that was how we always ended up arguing and I always left in the rage. Patty would later call me and tell me I hurt my mother's feelings, but honestly, nobody would believe me, I came to lunch, so I'd see my Dad. That was my priority and not her.

My feelings towards her have not changed, if anything she's the reason Daniel's such a puppy, May is such a fucking bitch and the reason I had to work my ass off extra time to actually get a job worth mentioning.

I failed two years of college because she didn't budge when Daniel and May were struggling and I had to come all the way from college campus to sit down with them and tell them what's the thing with those algorithms and chemical bonds or how to talk to girls and flirt with boys.

The door of the bathroom opened and Mum walked out with Devon in her arms. When she saw me she smiled like she hasn't seen the sun for thirty years and then glances at the baby "This boy is all good now."

"Good. Give him to me, now." I say and literally rip him from her arms. "I'd ask you if you're up for a drink, but I've got lots of things to do for my job, so thanks for stopping by and all that. Devon, say goodbye to Joanna." I hold up Devon's little arm and wave it her way.

She doesn't even flinch, but when I put Devon on the couch where he starts with baby aerobics, she takes a step forward "Nathan."

"Joanna."

She scoffs and looks up towards the ceiling, then she brings her head down to peer at me "Can we talk now?"

I shrug, getting the baby formula from the shopping bags I left untouched "Do we have to?"

"Since when do you have a son? Nobody told me anything! Your father, May, Daniel nor Patty." As she's listing the names, her voice climbs higher. "Can you at least tell me about that?" She smiles expectingly.

When she sits down on a couch next to my son (Jesus, fuck), I want to scream at her. Sitting down means she'll stay here longer than I intended her to.

I sigh and keep my mouth shut, maybe ignoring her is going to send her away for good.

"And where's the girl?" She says and looks around the apartment.

I shoot my eyes at her and say in a chuckling manner "There's no girl." She meets my eyes and when I see how confused she's looking at me, I decide to explain the deal to here and push her out of my apartment soon "Devon's not my son, I adopted him."

"Adopted?!" She guts out the words in shock. "But why?" She says and comes to the counter, behind which I'm struggling with this baby formula. Mum lets her palm rest on the counter as she observes me.

She's about to say something, but I cut in before she manages to do so "If you're gonna say, I could have my own kid, I swear that I'm gonna throw you out."

"But, it's true!" She moves closer, so she's only a few inches away from me and smiles "I know you're aware of your charms, my sweet boy."

She lifts her hand to stroke my cheek, but I move out of her reach, furrowing my brows "I'm not your sweet boy." I rip open the box with baby formula, only to notice there was a very clear and easy way to open it in the right corner.

She bends her head down and I barely look at her, because I have to prepare the formula and because I just don't want to look at her "Don't fight me, Nathan."

I read the instructions and follow them, though it takes me extra energy to really focus, since my mother, to whom I haven't spoken in years, is standing behind my back and for all I know, waiting to stab me in it too since that's what she does.

When I don't say anything in return, I get the formula ready and put it in a bottle, my Mum repeats what she's said before "Did you hear me? Don't fight me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I bark at her and moving past her to deliver the bottle to Devon, who's sucking on his fingers and spreading his saliva all over the couch Mr Ritchie was so fond of. I still can't get the image of that guy sniffing my sofa out of my head. Disturbing.

I hear her turn around, so she can see me, I presume, but I don't give a damn what she does.

"Here," I say and give the bottle to Devon, who stares at it like a dumb baby that he is.

"I know you're well aware of everything, Nathan. You've always been." Mum says and takes a few slow steps closer.

I'm still standing, watching Devon struggling with the bottle, turning it and observing it from all sides "Maybe you think I'm fighting you, but I'm just letting you know what a crap mother you were."

She inhales a little and I hope my words really stung her, 'cause if they didn't, I have more in stock for her. However, she remains quiet and dumb, probably letting it sink in.

Devon doesn't seem to get it what to do with the bottle. He starts licking it from all sides, stuffing the round ends in his mouth, he does everything except for the right thing.

"You have to hold him."

"What?" I say, because I don't hear her and because I have no idea what she means.

Mum rolls her eyes, like I do when someone appears excessively stupid to me, and comes closer "Sit down and take him in your lap. He's still a baby, he needs your help."

"I kind of guessed that, thanks for the enlightening." I groan back at her, asking the gods above why is she still here. We're perfectly fine until he shits himself. "And he's gonna be fine, look."

We both look at Devon who's now holding the bottle both with his hands and feet, playing with it.

"Nathan-"

"Mum, we're fine."

"For Christ's sake, for once do as I tell you! Sit down and take him in your lap." She raises her voice at me, which startles me.

I don't know what makes me do that, but I listen to her and follow her advice. She sits down next to me and watches as I take Devon in my arms. "Okay, now hold him like that. Once he's full, it'll be easier for him to fall asleep like this." She holds Devon up and places him in my arms like she described it. "Now, take the bottle and hold it against his mouth. He'll do the rest."

I do so and soon, Devon starts sucking on the bottle, consuming baby formula. I watch him as he blinks a few times before he fully closes his eyes and his softness sinks into my lap. I smile at the sight, thinking how damn cute he looks right now.

I nearly forget my mother's here, so when I remind myself of her presence, I lift my eyes only to see her smiling warmly at me.

"What?" I ask.

She shakes her head and shrugs "I just... Never thought I'd ever see you like this. In fact, I wasn't sure I'd ever see you."

I roll my eyes and fix my hold of Devon since he started to slip a little.

"Nathan, can we please..."

"Can we what, Mum?" I cut her short and glare at her, keeping my voice down for Devon's sake. She remains quiet, just watching me as I proceed "Can we stop arguing? Can we become a happy mother and a happy son? Is that what you wanted to say?"

She closes her eyes and sighs "Why are you being so difficult?"

"I'm being difficult? I've told you for so many times what's up and you still pretend to be stupid." Devon flinches in my arms and I hold him closer. He then gags a little on the formula and I get the bottle from his mouth and place it on the table. "Don't bring this shit up, while he's about to fall asleep."

She gives me a sad smile "I'm not screaming or raging, Nathan, you are."

"Have you maybe ever thought why?" I say and get up with the boy in my arms.

It's time to put him in his crib and let him sleep, so I do that. My mother follows me everywhere and I find it infuriating. I wish she had done that when I was in college and her other two children needed her to be there.

"I know you're angry." She says, when I'm bending over Devon's crib and when I look at her and meet her gaze, I see her leaning on the doorframe of the child's room.

"No, really? What gave me away?" I rumble and cover Devon with a small plaited blanket. I don't know if that's what I should do, but I'd rather see Devon being too cold than freezing to death.

Mum doesn't move from her spot and now I see the woman with whom I had to grow up after parents got a divorce. A woman, not moving a single finger for anything in the world.

"You don't have to be sarcastic with me." She says when I let go of the crib and am on my way out.

"And you didn't have to be a bad mother, but there you have it!" I exclaim when I'm sure Devon's away from the noise and is going to sleep peacefully. I really don't need him crying right now.

She again follows me, stalks me across the apartment like a predator. I use to do that to women, but my goal isn't to impale them when I get them. Well... Actually...

I stop behind the counter and pour myself a fair glass of vodka. That's when she says "And who do you think is a good mother, hm? Patricia? Who's juggling between brothers as she pleases?"

I choke on my drink and laugh "You're seriously dragging her into this? If I know anything about Patty is that she loves her children and she loves Daniel."

"I love you too. All of you," she says in her defence, which doesn't even touch my heart.

"And you felt the need to show that love to other men? Each day, another guy, because your love for your children was that infinite?" I look at her, "And you left your eldest son doing your dirty work because you loved us so much you had to give yourself a break?" I get closer to her "And you loved us so much, you let all of your children down whenever the opportunity came?"

We stare into each other's eyes for a large amount of time. She, convincing me to stop with that and I, pushing her to her breaking point.

In the end, she's the one to look away first and gasps along "You're not aware what it's like to lose someone dear to you, Nathan, but I do. When your father left-"

"When Dad divorced you, that was the best thing he ever did in his life, 'cause he finally got away from your leech like claws!"

She looks up at me surprised and taken aback, she must've not expected that kind of outburst.

However, her shaken expression isn't enough for me to stop, because these feelings have been cooking inside me for way too long "He was working his ass off to please you, so you'd lift yourself from the couch and maybe cooked us a fucking lunch! He did everything around the house, while you were only feeding off his goodness. If you at least found yourself a job, no, you were just there! So don't give me that crap how broken you were after he filed for divorce, 'cause honestly, if anyone was really, it was us. Daniel, May and I suffered greatly because you fucked a fancy lawyer and asked him to represent you on the court when Dad wanted us to go with him!"

She peers up at me, colour leaving her face. When she finds out she has the ability to move, she looks disoriented, but manages to say "I never denied I was a bad mother, Nathan, but that doesn't mean I don't love any of you." She stops to swallow hard her saliva, probably mixed with other liquids, knowing her and all that, "Especially you. I know I... I know I forced you to grow up before your time, honey and I'm sorry for everything that you had to go through, but I can't change it! If I could, I would and maybe... Maybe then, you would be more open to letting a girl consume your heart..."

I laugh at her response, especially when it gets to the end "I think you're about 13 years too late to worry about me, Mum, but nice try."

"Oh, quit it with your lectures! Are you gonna tell me it's a pure accident, after Patty screamed at you, you suddenly adopted a baby?" Mum crosses her arms as she says that and watches my reaction under a fucking microscope.

"You're not fucking serious," I mumble it more to myself, but I know she can hear it. I run both hands over my face and hair "You realise, Patty and I are ancient history?"

She lifts both of her brows, the expression I also make when I recognise someone is bullshitting all over the place "Oh, really? 'Cause it looks like you two still feel something for each other. Especially her."

I snort and shake my head, finishing the glass and pouring more of burning liquid in "That's because you don't know the whole story."

"Then tell me. Help me understand." She pleads.

I look at her with a deadpan expression and shake my head slowly "No. You didn't care about us before, you don't have to care about us now."

Mum takes a really deep breath, confused and most importantly, hurt "I don't know what I expected when I came here, but I sure know you really are my son. Just as stubborn and just as hot-headed." She brings her fingers to her eyes and wipes them with a swift move "At least I got to see you after such a long time." With that, she heads towards the front door and in the middle of her way there, she stops and says "I don't need to be the mother of the year, to be proud of you, Nathan."

And with that she is gone, finally leaving my apartment and me alone.

I stand behind the counter in silence, clenching my jaw and replaying the conversation I've just had with her. I don't think I've ever been this straightforward with her and still, it doesn't help. If she could, she'd change the past? Bullshit, she'd probably just go in a threesome and double penetration while I'd have to hold May's and Daniel's ears so they wouldn't hear their sexual moans and groans.

Similar memories swirl around in my head, causing my anger to surface like a volcano for which everyone believed has died a long time ago. I press the glass against my lips and tip it, so vodka pours down my throat and burns my insides as it travels down to my stomach. The wound feels so fresh, because it is, I remind myself. Every day I carry the consequences of her neglection and they are revealed one way or another.

I slam the glass down against the counter so hard, the glass gets a few cracks but doesn't break completely. Well, fuck you too.

I walk around my living room some more, trying to calm down. I try counting my steps as I go up and down the room or stare at some weird paintings I have on walls, but in the back of my head, my mother's face is still present and her voice still more than real. Without closing my eyes, I can see her lips shaping words as she tells me all sorts of bullshit, which I'd probably believe if I were 10 years old.

Feelings begin to boil in my chest, surfacing and taking control of my being. I've been feeling like this every time I saw my mother. Mother, yeah. Mother has become a synonym for unconditional love, for a woman who sacrifices for her children and I can't bear to call Joanna Price that.

Pacing around the room only makes me more nervous. I try sitting down a few times, but my restless legs fueled with anger and disappointment can't stay still for long, so I keep getting up.

I need to cool down, I know that, but I've always thought if I told my mother straightforward she was a fucking whore, I'd feel better, like getting clean or something, but it did no such thing. All of those feelings only came more to life and even though she left a while back, I am still burning up.

My usual go to blow off steam would be a nice girl with good tits and fine legs, or a lung-clenching workout, but since I can't really do any of those things now, I go with the third option, with which I usually kill the unnecessary boners - cold shower.

If there is anything that could cool me down, a cold shower of freezing temperature would surely work. I take a stroll to the bathroom and take off my clothes. This time I don't glance in the mirror to see if I have to shave or if I should get a haircut anytime soon because my first priority is to get my feelings under control before I call some hitman and hire him to kill my mother and bring me her heart as proof.

I stand in my shower cube and close my eyes tightly, because of boiling anger and because of anticipation of ice cold water. With a swift move, I open the water and when it hits my back, it's awfully soothing. Disturbing, but soothing. I stand under the shower for like 10 or 20 minutes, letting it run over me, cooling my heated body and mind to a normal degree.

When I finally feel like myself again, I step out of the shower and put a towel around my waist. It's so weird to see a clear mirror since after every shower it's usually fogged and I need to wipe the moisture off of it, but this time my shower wasn't hot.

I look at myself in the mirror and out of nowhere, the anger from before, returns even mightier. I look at my hair, dark messy hair, completely uncontrollable, which is also the reason Mum kept hers shorter. I see my nose, straight, neither upturned, downturned or bumpy, which was one of Dad's favourite things on Mum before they got divorced. Then my eyes, just as bright and pale as hers.

"...but I sure know you really are my son."

I bend my head down, swallowing down the rage. I inhale sharply, clenching my jaw and gritting teeth. I'm not like her.

"I know I forced you to grow up before your time, honey..."

I shake my head at my own thoughts, doing my best to send them away, but nothing helps. Anger is there, smothering me, drowning all the pictures of beautiful women I've been with because now there's only a picture of my mother. My mother and me.

"I know you're aware of your charms..."

I am. I am aware of my good looks, I am aware of what I do to women with just a few looks, but that's not because of her, not because of what she gave me. I'm not good looking because of her eyes, her hair and her nose, I know that's not it.

"...I can't change it! If I could, I would..."

I'm not filled with so many regrets like her. I don't want to be. I wish I had done some things differently, but I. Am. Not. Like. Her. I wish I would treat Patty differently in high school, I wish I called the social department and tell them what a shitty mother Joanna Price is, but I'm not like her. I'd change many things I've done, hundreds, but I'm not full of regrets like her. No way.

"Ah, Nathan Price? You're Joanna's boy?" The policeman looks at me, checking my ID and picture on my driving license to compare it to my face. "You are a lot like her, boy. Dark haired, bright-eyed and as much of a troublemaker as her. Get out of the car."

The luggage I wanted to swallow, that I managed to keep safely put under a blanket is waking up, stretching its limbs over my heart, mind and my own judgement. Rubbing my face, pulling my hair in frustration, nothing helps, it only increases the insecurity my mother has brought with her today.

I am on my way back from the bathroom, to return to the conversation I had with grandpa earlier, only to be startled by the mention of my name "You're gonna call him Aidan? Isn't that what Nathan called himself when he was four years old?"

I don't hear Patty say a word, but when Daniel speaks, he doesn't sound nervous or panicky as one would expect "I don't know, grans, we just think it's a pretty name that would fit our son."

"Huh." My grandma would scoff and peek from the doorframe, I see her shake her head "I always thought he'd be the one to name his son like that, but it looks like we'll never get grandchildren from him. Shame, though. I always hoped he wouldn't look up to your mother."

I don't. I don't look up to her. Never did, never will. I'm not like her, not in any sense. I hate her and I despise her, I'm not like her. I'm not like her. I'm not like her.

"...my sweet boy."

"I'm not sweet. I'm not sweet and I am not your boy. I'm not sweet and I'm not your boy. I'm not sweet and I'm not your fucking boy!" I scream at myself, at my own thoughts and hit with my fist straightforward.

I look up, breathless, feeling like my lungs have collapsed a thousand times and see the giant crack in the mirror in the height where I'd usually see my face. In the crack, there are traces of blood and I inspect my hand only to see small parts of mirror's glass stuck in and piercing my skin. So, now I'm bleeding metaphorically and literally.

A/N: After so many cute and funny problems, Nathan had to go face-to-face and one-on-one with his mother. Was he a little too strict with her, did he look like a douchebag or do you give him a right to be like that? His mother sure is a source of his emotional luggage. Maybe this chapter opened your eyes and showed you a deeper insight into what Nathan is like deep down. He's not just a stud and irresistible man, it goes way deeper than just that. So, what do you think of his frustrations with his mother? Do you think he'll be able to forgive her for that one day?

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~Blackie