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But then I didn't either.

Mom always seemed unbreakable. But she wasn't. There were cracks. A quiver in her voice here. A too strong drink there. A sad look at the door when I asked when Dad would be home.

She was lonely. She was lashing out. She was trying to put shit together.

I peel the plastic from the bouquet and drop the roses on her grave.

"I don't know what you'd think of me if you were still around. I guess I wouldn't be this guy. I wouldn't have changed everything in my life to take care of Emma." I press my hand to her gravestone. "I get it now, how hard it is to be a parent, to try to do the best for the people you love. I get that you were trying to help me and Emma in your way. I get that you looked at me like I was a piece of shit because you wanted something better for me." I lean back on my heels. "I understand. And I forgive you."

The tension in my shoulders melts. Fuck, it's weird talking to a tombstone, but if I squint, I can convince myself Mom is hearing this somehow.

"I know you didn't mean to fuck with my head. But you did. There's still a huge part of me convinced I'm worthless. That I'll never deserve the love of the kind of woman who wears cardigans and gets straight As. Fuck, I think I just threw away the best thing that ever happened to me because of it."

My exhale is heavy.

"But even with all that fucked up shit you did, I wish you were still around. I miss you. I can't believe it, but I do. I'm not sure if you'd believe me, but I'm trying to do better. For me. For Em. For you and Dad. For all of us."

* * *

Emma's locked in her room.

I knock on her door.

She doesn't answer.

"Em. I can open this door. I need to know you're okay."

"Okay is relative."

"Physically, okay."

She says nothing.

"Em." All these doors are child proof. A bobby pin is enough to trip the lock. But I'd rather not invade my sister's privacy. That's one of the million ways I want to do better. "You don't have to talk to me. Just tell me if you're okay."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Her footsteps move toward the door. "Why did you break up with Kaylee?"

"You were right. I'm supposed to protect her from guys like me." At least that's what my head was telling me. Now... it doesn't feel as right. It feels like Mom's voice.

"Really?" Emma pulls her door open. "Are you fucking serious?"

"You said it."

"Because I was pissed." She smooths her hair. Wipes her puffy, bloodshot eyes. "I thought about it. And... well, I was wrong. I was shocked and pissed and, well, you don't exactly have a good track record with relationships."

Fair enough. "Yeah."

"I thought... well, Kay is really pretty. And she's all sweet and innocent. And your reputation... I thought you just wanted to corrupt her. Or some sick shit like that. I couldn't imagine you really loving her. But I knew... I think, deep down, I knew she liked you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wanted to believe it was someone else. Even Dean. But I think I knew. And I even understood. She's happy around you. She laughs. She relaxes. She... she tells you stuff. Stuff she doesn't tell me. That pissed me off. I'm her best friend and you're some hot, tall guy who will probably throw her away."

"You're tall."

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