They pulled away, and Kira stepped out of the room silently as I sat, not knowing exactly where to start. My mother adjusted the shoulder bag on her arm, and I cleared my throat as I stood.
“Did you want to take a look around at some of the new exhibits? Beckham’s showrooms have been switched out, so we have a few new displays…”
She smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”
Soon, we stepped out of my office and somewhat awkwardly stood beside one another as we journeyed to the first showroom. Stepping inside, my mother looked around as I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear nervously.
“Yesterday’s gathering was rather… eventful, to say the least,” she said at last.
“No kidding…” I muttered.
“From the moment you walked into the room, I could tell something was wrong. Call it mother’s intuition, if you will. Same feeling I felt on the day you brought Gavin home to meet your father and me. And when your client walked in and fixed his eyes on you like you were the last woman on earth… I knew things were about to get ugly.”
“Not as ugly as multiple affairs, hush money, and illegitimate children, I would assume,” I added.
She gave a slight shrug. “In hindsight, you had only one of those things, and it was with only one other person. Can’t quite say the same for Gavin.”
“You’re not… disappointed, are you?” I asked her.
“You’re asking me if I’m disappointed that my daughter left a toxic marriage after falling in love with a man who will love her even until her heart’s content?”
“I… I guess I am.”
The answer seemed pretty obvious from her statement; however, given that I expressed my utter dissatisfaction with my marriage to my in-laws and father yesterday with little to no support on the matter, my walls were still rightfully in place.
Seeing my need for her reassurance, even for something as blatantly obvious as this, my mother sighed. “Of course I’m not disappointed in you. I’m more proud of you than anything.”
“Dad sure isn’t,” I said, a bitter undertone lingering in my voice.
“Well, of course he isn’t. Both of you have different visions for what you want for your future. He lost control over you when you started getting older, and he thought Gavin would slide right in and put you in your place as your husband. He’s disappointed because you ended up beingmore than just a wife.”
My heart pinched in my chest. She didn’t meet my eyes, and at that moment, I regretted saying those words in front of her.
Her main purpose when she met my father was to be his wife, nothing more, nothing less. She gave up her dreams and aspirations because she was blinded by love, oblivious to the control he exerted over her until she realized it and was simply… compliant, just so she could raise me and keep our shattering home together.
“Mom… I didn’t mean to—”
She shook her head. “You’re father and I are getting a divorce.”
“What? Why?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion, though it was quite obvious why they were separating.
“No reason in particular… just realized that I was more than just a woman on his arm. I am more than a stay-at-home mother… and I am more than just a wife to him. It only took me thirty years of marriage and my beautiful, fearless daughter to realize that for myself.”
She smiled sadly, and I went over to her. I pulled her into a hug as she squeezed me close. I hadn’t hugged her in this way in such a long time. And in this moment, after everything we’d both been through, it just felt right.
“I… I didn’t mean to be so distant towards you over the years… I was just angry.”
“Rightfully so. You were the backbone of our home, you know. Despite how controlling he was… you had him rattled, babydoll. He couldn’t tolerate your defiance and pushed you to your limits to make you cave into his demands. And as much as you think you took him on alone, I was in the corner, cheering you on just because you were doing what I never could.”
“Standing up to Dad?”
She shook her head. “Being your own woman and standing up for yourself and what you think is right.”
Tears pooled in my eyes, and I pulled away as a shuddered breath left me. “In the beginning, when I met Beckham, I kept beating myself up, criticizing myself for making the wrong decisions.”
She wiped away one of her own unshed tears before she wiped the tear from my cheek with her thumb. “Well, regardless of whether or not those decisions were wrong, they wereyourdecisions. Not anyone else’s.”
I smiled softly and simply enjoyed the feeling of her wiping away my tears, in the same way she had done when she was comforting me in the past after I had an argument or dispute with my father. As I got older, I pushed her away, but she truly was always there for me. And for that, I would forever be grateful to her.
