Mom Is Mine

Chapter 1 — Establishing a New Set of Rules

June 6th. Thursday. 10:15 PM.

“Will you get your fat ass out of the way?”

Beth ignored her husband’s enraging comment. What she really wanted to do was cut his throat with the sharpest knife that she could find, but she’d worked hard on turning the other cheek lately. Maintaining her composure wasn’t exactly easy though.

He turned up the volume as his wife continued to dust in front of their bedroom television. “I can’t see the game!”

Heaven forbid that he couldn’t see some stupid football game! She’d just about had it with Andy. Had she officially reached her breaking point after twenty years of marriage? It certainly felt like it.

Lazy, condescending, nasty, fat, and downright mean at times: those were just a few adjectives that she would use to describe her not so lovely husband. Each and every turn of the calendar resulted in him turning into a bigger asshole. She would kill for the return of the fairly lazy man who she fell in love with a lifetime ago.

The present-day version of her spouse was vile to her. The comments about her weight were endless. Was she a little more plump than she was back in her twenties? Sure, but who wasn’t? And she’d tried so hard to lose weight lately! And she’d lost some! Countless numbers of her excess pounds had been trimmed courtesy of her new diet and gym-going habits.

Beth had always considered herself to be a curvy five-foot-five. Her D-cup breasts and sizable backside complemented her brown eyes and shoulder-length brunette hair perfectly—at least that’s how she felt a decade ago. Years of verbal abuse had completely crushed her self-esteem, and she could pinpoint the exact moment when things really took a turn for the worst.

It was when Tom went off to college.

The majority of her husband’s previous negativity was reserved for when they were in private. Andy’s true colors only showed when their son wasn’t around, but with Tom off at college for the past eight months—with the exception of him returning home for winter break—the nasty remarks soon became commonplace everywhere. If she overcooked something, she was an idiot; if she bought the wrong item at the grocery store, she was stupid; and no matter how much she exercised, she was always fat.

Being the house’s primary breadwinner only emphasized the irony of her situation. She made a living in real estate while her husband worked in warehousing, and her salary almost doubled what he brought home. Their vast differences in financial contributions had never been an issue, however. It was the burden of having to run the house all by herself that drove her mad.

How did Tom turn out so sweet? She liked to think that she had something to do with her son developing into the amazing nineteen-year-old man who she adored; and to be completely honest, Tom was the only thing keeping her married to Andy. Her baby needed to grow up in a stable environment. She couldn’t just rip him away from his father.

“Can you move any fuckin’ slower?” he huffed. “Jesus Christ, Beth.”

She finished wiping off the dresser before turning back to glare at him. The casualness of her pink sweatpants and black t-shirt didn’t reflect her anger whatsoever. She couldn’t possibly despise him more at the moment.

“Move!” he ordered loudly.

She placed her hands on her hips defiantly and stared at him. His big beer belly and thinning brown hair only angered her further. A guy like him should be over the moon to have a woman like herself in his life!

“It’s third down!” he shouted. “Get the fuck out of the way!”

Did part of her actually prefer that he be such an outright jerk? She certainly didn’t love him anymore, and his reprehensible personality caused her to experience significantly less guilt regarding her own feelings. How many times had she dreamed of leaving him? Hundreds? The urge to cheat consumed her every time a nice, respectful, good-looking man showed her even the slightest bit of attention. All she desired was to feel loved and respected. Was that really too much to ask for?

What did she wait for? Sure, Tom had returned home for summer break, but he spent most of the year living in the dorms at his university. He also wasn’t a little boy anymore. He could handle his parents going through a divorce, couldn’t he? She just never expected her marriage to come to this.

She’d always looked at herself as a supermom. She was the one who worked full-time, ran school fundraisers, drove Tom to practices, and kept their household in check. Filing for divorce would be an admission of failure. It would display a crack in the pristine life that she portrayed to everyone around her. No one in her social circle had any idea that she couldn’t stand the man she was married to.

The dating market wasn’t exactly welcoming to women on the wrong side of forty, let alone to those with a few extra pounds to boot. Yes, she was kind, friendly, and loved to have fun, güvenilir bahis but who would pick her over some twenty-two-year-old cutie?

Perhaps it would be best to just accept the life she had? The man lying in bed was her husband, and the only thing she had to look forward to was forty more years of negativity.

“Over the middle…what a catch! Thomas reels it in with one-hand! Oh my goodness!”

He was fuming now, and his intense look of anger from missing a spectacular play in his precious football game brought her joy. Part of her was happy with her decision to block his view by refusing to move. Ruining her asshole husband’s night brought her happiness. It was refreshing to make him experience a hint of the misery that he brought to her life on a daily basis.

“Move!” Andy demanded, enraged. “Now!”

She didn’t have anything to show for her effort to be the better person for all these years either. Turning the other cheek was bullshit. All it did was allow the other side of her face to be slapped. Her days of being a pushover were behind her, because she was ready to finally stand her ground.

“You’re an asshole.”

His eyebrows perked up at the sound of her strong tone. “Excuse me?”

“I said that you’re an asshole,” she repeated calmly, still blocking his view.

“Is that right?” he asked with an arrogant chuckle. “Well, do you want to know something, Beth? I may be an asshole, but you’re a fat, old, unappreciative bitch, and the last thing I need is for some cunt to intentionally block my view when I want to watch a football game after a long day at work. Now, get your fat fucking ass out of the way before I snap.”

Tears poured from her eyes as she scurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Oh my God, are you kidding me?” he remarked under his breath. “Fuckin’ crybaby.”

She couldn’t stand her ground. She wasn’t strong enough! Years of being called fat and old took its toll on her. Her life had turned into a nightmare, and there wasn’t any escape.

What if she wasn’t the nice, kind, lovable person that she always thought of herself as? Maybe she was delusional? Perhaps Andy hated her because she was unlikable?

“Are you crying?”

She stopped in her tracks. Standing in the middle of the hallway—pausing from his trek back to his bedroom with a glass of water in his hand—was Tom.

“No,” she answered, doing her best to hide her red eyes from her son.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

She turned and looked away. She didn’t want him to see her like this. The last thing her nineteen-year-old son needed was to be burdened by her problems.

“Mom,” he said, his tone reflecting a man who wanted an answer.

And what would he do if she told him anyway? Tom was her little angel; not her problem solver. Maybe he would mention something to his father the next time he saw him, but Andy would eventually return to his degrading ways—especially once their son went back to school.

But how good would it feel to get it off her chest? She needed someone to vent to. It felt like a godsend to simply have someone in her life who was willing to listen to her problems.

“Mom!” he said louder, demanding to be informed of the situation.

Forty-two-year-old women shouldn’t turn to nineteen-year-old college kids for advice. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Was this really where her life was at? Had she merely become a helpless old lady who couldn’t even stick up for herself?

Messy, thick brown hair; a dark shade of stubble on his handsome face; striking brown eyes; and a body that show just how much time he spent in the gym: her son should be busy chasing girls on this Thursday night, but he wasn’t seducing some lucky nineteen-year-old knockout, was he? No, he was about to be weighed down by her headache instead.

“Your-your-your father,” she stammered. “He is-is-is so-so…”

Tom waited for her to finish patiently. He would stand here all night if need be. He couldn’t just move on from seeing his amazing mom cry.

“He’s-he’s-he’s so-so mean to me!” she finally managed to spit out.

Relief flooded her body. Her confession was over a decade in the making, and now she wondered why she never acted on her instincts sooner? She no longer carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Everyone in her life thought of Andy as a good guy. He always put on such a fake persona at all their family events. Her own mother still talked about how lucky she was to be married to such a charming man, for God’s sake! Charming? He wasn’t charming! He was an asshole, but no one knew it!

Well, someone else did now, and he just so happened to stand in front of her with a baffled expression all over his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Dad is so mean to me!” she repeated, still flustered but significantly relieved. “He always calls me names, makes fun of me, and treats me like shit!”

His confused look grew. Was Mom messing with him? Since when was Dad nasty to her? türkçe bahis He’d never heard negative or nasty comments from his father, and while his parents didn’t exactly seem lovestruck with each other, things weren’t horrible either.

“He’s mean to you?” he questioned. “When?”

“When you’re not around,” she answered. “He always waits until we’re alone. Everyone thinks that he’s this great guy, but he isn’t. He’s a total jerk!”

His brown eyes squinted slightly as he continued to stare at her, dressed in black basketball shorts and a red tank top. His big biceps and muscular shoulders showed just how much he’d grown since leaving for college. Her little angel had left for school as a boy, and returned as a man.

“I’m being serious!” she raised her voice. “I’m not lying!”

“I never said that you were lying,” he told her, surprised by her revelation. “I’ve just never heard any of these comments before. What does Dad say?”

Why should she hold back now? She already admitted to Tom that his father wasn’t the man that he thought he knew. She may as well tell him everything.

“He calls me stupid, old, and he always tells me I’m fat,” she admitted. “Constantly.”

His blood began to boil. “He says those things to you?”

“Every day!” she continued to vent. “I’m so sick of it! I do so much around here and he doesn’t appreciate any of it. Like, I was trying to dust our bedroom a few minutes ago, and told me to get my fat ass out of the way because I was blocking the TV.”

His hand balled into a fist instinctively. He didn’t realize it, but his water almost spilled from the manner in which his arms shook with rage. He was furious.

“And then he called me a fat, old, unappreciative bitch,” she told him.

His left eye twitched.

“And a cunt too!” she shouted, her anger beginning to rise as she replayed Andy’s conceited tone in her head.

“Hold this,” he said, handing her his glass of water. He stormed past her and made a beeline straight for his parents’ closed bedroom door at the end of the upstairs hallway.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. He was far too preoccupied with what he’d heard to find the words to respond. So, this was his father? It was no secret that Dad was on the lazy side, but this version of him sounded like hell to live with. How long had this been going on for? Had his amazing mother actually been miserable for years?

He burst into his parents’ bedroom to find his dad lounging in bed.

“Back already?” Andy asked, his eyes yet to leave the television.

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

“Jesus, it sounds like you’re going to fall through the floor,” Andy snickered. “Maybe you—whoa!”

Tom grabbed a big handful of his father’s t-shirt and slammed him back against the wooden headboard of the bed. Dad’s eyes finally left from the TV and stared at his face, confused and maybe even a little fearful. If what his mother had told him was indeed true—and she’d never lied to him before—then he wanted Dad to be terrified.

“What did you say to Mom?” Tom growled.

“What did I say to Mom?” Andy asked after taking a deep gulp. He’d never seen his son so enraged. “What?”

Tom’s fingers dug deeper into the cotton fabric in his grasp. “What did you say to her before she came out into the hallway?”

“I-I-I did-didn’t say anything,” Andy sputtered, attempting to conceal his lie.

He roughly pushed his father again, causing the back of his head to thud against the wood behind him. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andy said.

He stared deeply into his father’s frightened brown eyes. “Did you call Mom a fat, old, unappreciative bitch?”

“I—”

“And did you call her a cunt?” he cut off his father.

“We—”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Tom interrupted.

Andy would never admit it, but he was scared. Tom had always been a strong kid who excelled in sports throughout his years of school, and the muscular frame he possessed reflected the past decade of year-round physical competition. The fifteen pounds of muscles that he’d put on since going off to college only enhanced his already impressive body.

He couldn’t help but be intimidated by the way his son effortlessly jolted him back against the headboard. Tom was taller—at an imposing six-foot-one compared to Andy’s five-foot-seven stature—significantly fitter, and undeniably stronger. The vein which bulged in his bicep as he continued to squeeze his shirt was scary. For the first time in his life, Andy found himself legitimately worried for his safety inside his own house.

“I may have-have-have sa-said some things,” he stuttered, glancing at his son’s powerful forearm which held him in place.

“Did you call her a cunt?” Tom asked again. “And did you tell her she’s fat?”

His father nodded meekly.

“Sweetheart, relax!”

Tom’s head snapped around to find his mother now in the room with them. She kept her distance cautiously, just inside the güvenilir bahis siteleri entryway. Her look of concern was impossible to miss.

“It’s fine,” he told his mom. “You shouldn’t be here for this.”

She’d never seen anything like Andy’s look of panic. He appeared so weak—like a younger sibling being bullied by his big brother—but her husband couldn’t be further from a little kid, and the guy with a handful of his shirt certainly wasn’t his older brother. Andy was a forty-five-year-old man being dominated by his own son!

She never could’ve imagined watching something like this unfold after informing Tom about her personal life. The optimistic part of her had hoped for her sweetheart of a son to sit down and have a mature discussion with his father regarding his behavior, but he clearly decided to handle the situation differently—much differently.

And even more unexpected was how much she found herself enjoying it.

Tom moved his mouth next to his father’s ear to keep his voice hidden from Mom. “I’m going to say this extremely slowly and clearly so there isn’t any confusion. Mom and I talk every day, and once I go back to school, we’ll text every day as well. She’s going to keep me updated on what’s going on around here. Now, if I find out that you even utter a disrespectful word to her—let alone call her something like a cunt again—I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Andy’s heart stopped beating.

“And I’m not trying to sound like a tough guy either,” Tom went on, still forcibly pressing the back of Dad’s head against the wood to his rear. “I’m simply telling you how things are going to work from now on. You either treat Mom like the amazing woman she is, or you shut your fuckin’ mouth. Understood?”

Andy nodded gingerly, terrified.

Tom released his hold on his father’s shirt before turning to look at his mother, and he couldn’t help but be caught off guard from what he saw. She didn’t appear stunned, confused, or even scared. Instead, she looked pleased.

“You can sleep in my room tonight.”

Beth’s focus left her shocked husband and shifted to her son. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to sleep in the same bed as someone who talks down to you,” Tom told her. “You can sleep in my room.”

“Thanks, honey,” she said with a smile.

“No problem,” he smiled back. “Is there anything you need to get?”

She walked over to her nightstand, her eyes locked on the dispirited asshole who’d acted so cocky mere minutes ago. Andy was a tough guy when it came to mocking her, but he crumbled the moment a real man stepped up to him. His recent behavior reaffirmed everything she already knew about him.

She grabbed her Kindle and followed her son into the hallway.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she said, thrilled to finally have someone stick up for her, but slightly troubled from what she witnessed.

“No, I did,” Tom said as he shut his parents’ bedroom door. “Has this been going on for a long time?”

She nodded.

“I wish you would’ve told me about this earlier,” he said. “You don’t deserve to be talked to like that.”

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him the biggest hug of her life. Everything about him was perfect. As if he wasn’t smart, funny, athletic, and handsome enough to begin with, now he was a total gentleman on top of all his other amazing traits? Those college girls were probably fighting each other for the privilege of getting his time.

“I put your water on your nightstand if you want to grab it,” she told him after breaking off their embrace. The two headed into his room where Beth slid into his bed. “Thanks again, honey. I really appreciate it.”

He swiftly joined her under the covers. “No problem, Mom.”

Watching her son slam his father against their bed headboard took a back seat to her current moment of confusion. She couldn’t have been more baffled. “Um…what are you doing?”

He reached out to retrieve his water from the nightstand. “Huh?”

“I thought you said that I could have your bedroom tonight,” she reminded him.

“I did,” he answered nonchalantly before helping himself to a sip.

She continued to stare at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Did she really need to answer that? She was comfortably under the covers in bed, all ready to read a few chapters on her Kindle before calling it a night, except she wasn’t alone. A certain nineteen-year-old had decided to join her, but he wasn’t some hunk from her latest romance novel. No, the guy a few feet to her left just so happened to be her son.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here too,” she said awkwardly. Nothing about this felt right.

His curious look had yet to alter. “It’s a queen size bed. There’s plenty of room.”

Spacing wasn’t her problem. It was who she shared the bed with. “Honey—”

“Is this weird for you?” he interrupted.

“It’s not weird for you?” she asked.

“Why would it be weird for me?” he questioned, casual as ever.

“Because I’m your mother,” she answered, flabbergasted that she needed to explain the situation. “I assumed that you would sleep downstairs on the couch.”

He took another sip of his water before setting the glass back down on his nightstand. “I can leave if you want.”