I swallowed, setting my spoon down for a second before picking it back up again.
“I didn’t think it would matter,” I said finally, not quite meeting her eyes. “I didn’t thinkIwould.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“I should’ve said something a long time ago. It just… sits on me. Not just missing him,” I said, though that part was obvious.“It’s everything after that. All of it. The idea that I’m supposed to… carry it, or help fix it, or be strong enough to look at it.” I stopped, exhaling through my nose. “I don’t think I am.”
Across the counter, Mom’s hand flattened against the surface, steadying herself before she moved. A second later, she was in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back slightly.
“You are,” she vowed. “You’re stronger than me in many ways. Stronger than most people, I imagine.”
Not a chance.
I opened my mouth to argue, and with one shake of her head, she shut me up.
“You are, but that doesn’t mean you have to carry it alone. And it doesn’t mean I get to put it all on you.”
Her hand trembled as it lifted, pushing my hair back, fingers catching for a second before smoothing it down.
“I haven’t been fair to you.”
“Mom—”
“And Ineverforgot you. Not for a second. I may have lost one son, but I didn’t forget I still had another.” Her lower lip wobbled, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t show you the way I should have. I’m sorry.”
The tight, constant pressure in my chest eased enough that I actually noticed the absence of it. I shut my eyes, one hand pressing flat against my stomach as I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto all morning.
Now I felt like an asshole.
“I’m not saying you forgot me,” I muttered. “I just… needed you to remember I’m still here.”
“I know,” she whispered, and it was enough to knock the rest of the argument out of me.
I stood without really deciding to and pulled her into a hug. Her arms came around me immediately, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry,” she said into my shoulder.
“Me too.”
She pulled back, resting our foreheads together for a breath before straightening, dabbing her knuckles beneath her eyes.
They looked lighter than they had in a long time.
“When did you get so insightful?”
“It’s the boyfriend,” Rhys chirped.
“Damn, Rhys.” A breath left me as my hand dragged once over the back of my neck. “Give it a second before you start narrating my life.”
Mom’s mouth curved, her hand still wrapped around my arm as she leaned back just enough to look at me.
“Boyfriend?” she echoed, then angled toward him. “Love life?”
He lit up immediately. “It’s the professor. The one who looks like he hasn’t blinked since 2008.”
I shot him a look. “I’m standing right here.”
“Cool,” he said, not even hesitating. “You’ll hear me good and clear when I start singing.”
