“Save it for someone who believes you,” I say as coldly as I can.
“Pat—” Sean starts.
“You do what you want,” I mutter. “But I can’t do this again.”
I turn.
Lou turns with me.
And a cry tears from my mother’s throat.
We don’t stop walking until we reach the bus parked at the far end of the players’ lot.
Lou instantly throws her arms around me. “Did that feel as bad as it looked?”
I breathe out a laugh that feels like a cry. “It felt pretty bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
A moment later, Sean comes around the bus, his brow creased. He pulls me into a rough hug. “I love you, man. I think you need to forgive her, but I love you.”
When we pull back, I look at him like he’s speaking another language.
“How can I forgive her? She’s done this a dozen times. The only difference is now she’s a better actress.”
“I don’t know. We’ve been talkin’ for a while?—”
I stop him, wishing I could swallow the ache in my throat. “Don’t, man. Talk to her all you want, but whatever journey you’re on to make peace with the women who’ve wronged you has nothing to do with me.”
Sean punches my shoulder, and I snort. “You’re such a punk.”
Then Sean looks at Lou, not me, and something wordless passes between them.
“I don’t think Sean’s saying you need to reconcile … or even let her back into your life,” she says. “Are you?”
My gaze follows hers back to Sean. His dark eyes are shinier than they should be under the parking lot lights.
“No, I ain’t saying that, although she’s been trying. She calls me every week.”
“Yeah? Why doesn’t she call me?”
“You blocked her.” Sean says flatly. “Listen, I don’t know what’s gonna happen with Mom. But I don’tneedto. That’s the thing about forgiveness. It has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you … not carrying the burden of her choices anymore. Forgiveness is a one-way street. A way to stop being so bitter and angry about the hurt she caused.”
“Hurt?” My lungs tighten. “It ain’t just hurt. She’s like a wildfire. She scorched everything—us, our trust, our future—and now we’re left trying to bring back what got burned. Again.”
“Then stop staring at ashes.” Lou says it so softly, with so much compassion, that my nose stings. “You’ve got good ground now—people who love you, who want to grow with you. But you keep standing in the scorched earth, angry nothing’s growing back. Maybe it’s time to plant something new.”
Sean grips both of my shoulders—not to weigh me down but to steady me. To free me.
“Take it from someone who knows,” he says. “Forgiveness feels good.”
I duck my head, the back of my throat raw.
“But maybe the person you need to forgive isn’t Mom,” he adds. “Maybe it’s you.”
I laugh, but it’s sharp, and it only makes the pain worse.
