When she texted me to ask if I was free this afternoon, I immediately said yes and then sent her my class timetable. Transparency of my availability is vital.
But if there’s one thing I know for sure, Maya needs to go back this January to start her final year. Even if I have to get on my knees and beg. The girl is too smart to throw away all her hard work—given she’s just had a baby—and she deserves to graduate and get the career of her dreams.
I’ll support her in any way she wants me to.
I raise my knuckles against Maya’s door and step back. It takes a few moments for it to swing open, and the second I see Maya’s glistening, bloodshot eyes, my entire demeanor changes.
“What’s the matter?” I ask with urgency, stepping forward.
Maya wipes at her face. “Nothing.”
I frown. “You’ve been crying.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Sunshine,” I whisper, the nickname falling from my lips with ease, and I instinctively place my hand on her cheek.
We both tense at the sudden action, but it feels far too natural.
She blinks up at me with her dark eyes and wet lashes. My thumb smooths over the skin on her cheek as I tower over her.
“What’s wrong?”
She closes her eyes, and two fresh tears roll down her face. It tears me in half. Literally. As if someone has torn out my organs and trampled on them. There’s nothing worse than seeing someone you care about upset.
“Maya,” I whisper. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing,” she sniffles. “Just been having a tough day.”
“With Skye?”
She shakes her head.
“Then what?”
“Nina,” she croaks.
“What about Nina?”
“I-I don’t think I can live here anymore,” she whispers. “And I don’t know where else to go. My dad is all loved up and settled with his family, and my mum would never let me bring Skye home, and I’m just struggling with everything. I can’t afford anywhere else, and I don’t want anyone to think I’m an unfit mother.”
The moment her voice breaks, I wrap her up in my arms and clutch her head to my chest, spearing my fingers through her hair soothingly. But when she starts to break down in endless tears, my heart contracts painfully.
“Breathe. Breathe for me. I’ve got you,” I whisper. “And you are not an unfit mother. You’re the best mother Skye could ever have.”
Maya chokes out another sob and clutches onto the back of my hoodie with her fingers. I stroke her hair and hold her until her cries become silent.
She pulls back as if realising what position we’re in, and I drop my hands from her, immediately missing her warmth. She wipes her face frantically. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Maya straightens herself out and hikes her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll go get Skye.”
Before she can attempt to turn around, I reach for her arm. “Just because Skye is my daughter doesn’t mean I only came to see her, and I’m not going to push this conversation away when you’re clearly upset.”
“I’m fine,” she says with a fake smile.
“Don’t do that.” I step into her, my hand still on her wrist. “Don’t lie to me.”
