“The truth?” Kevin scoffs, scraping his nails across the metal table between them. “Not to be cliché, but you can’t handle it. Mom.”
Eva looks flabbergasted, or maybe insulted that her twenty-two year old son is talking down to his mother. Again. Or maybe it’s because she knows he’s probably right. More likely.
“Tell me, Kevin. I want to know. It’s the only thing I’ve asked of you in all these years.” Eva reaches across the table for his drumming fingers, and he pulls away, tucking his hands under his knees. She looks into his eyes when she adds, “I never even expected an apology.”
Kevin watches her, feeling sick with himself for what he’s about to say. But wanting her to experience it, too, is part of the beauty. Part of what makes the truth so great. If she wants to deal with all of Kevin’s dark, twisted, far beyond perturbed, thoughts, then that’s her funeral.
“I did it to be with you, Eva.”
Not mom, not mother – because it’s not a family-friendly revelation. Eva because he wants her down on her knees, right now even, sucking his cock until he covers her face in him. Eva because he wants her on all fours, definitely in here, dripping and screaming her throat hoarse, while he fucks her senseless. Eva because he wants to tell her all the times he hoped she’d walk in on him jerking off. And when she finally did, she closed the door too quickly for his load to hit her in the face, so it landed against his door instead.
Eva doesn’t look shocked enough; Kevin knows she doesn’t get it. So, he clarifies. It’s bad enough he’s had to deal with all these desires while trying to push her away when she got too close.
“I don’t mean ‘Oh, mom. Let’s be the bestest friends in the world and bake fuckin’ cookies’, either. I mean ‘Oh, mom. I know you fuckin’ love the way I slip my hand into your cookie jar, and eat them all up.’ Get the difference?”
Eva gasps, hand over her mouth like she’s been burned. And, yeah, that’s closer to the right reaction. How hard would she cry, how loud would she scream, if he told her the truth without any censoring?
Hey, mom, I’d like to fuck the pussy I came out from. Are you sure you didn’t adopt me? We can pretend you did if it makes you sleep better at night. Next to me. In our bed.
Eva gets up to leave, but before she reaches the door, she looks back. “I’ll see you next week, Kevin.” She’s not quite crying, but maybe Kevin can get her there next time. She might as well know she’s to blame for her failed marriage, becoming a widow, her son’s fucked up view of sex, and her dead daughter.
If she’d just seen sooner that he wanted to be a motherfucker – literally – none of this shit would have happened. Thanks, mom, for bringing me into the world and then letting me burn it down.
The door’s almost closed when Eva says, “I love you.”
Kevin pretends she said the opposite. That’s still easier for him to deal with.