Page 63 of The Moment I Knew

“Well,” she said gently, reaching out to brush my arm, “go warm up. There’s tea downstairs if you want.”

I smiled back, smaller this time. “Okay.”

As I turned to leave, I caught Mum’s reflection one more time, and that fragile hope inside me wobbled.

The doorbell rang downstairs and Mum startled, then laughed at herself. “That’ll be him.”

Lavender clapped her hands once. “Okay, moment of truth.”

Mum grabbed her coat, hesitating just long enough to look at herself one last time. She inhaled, squared her shoulders, and turned to us with a smile that was equal parts excitement and nerves. “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck,” Lavender said immediately, bright and genuine.

I swallowed. “Have fun.”

Her smile softened when she looked at me, like she knew I was giving her something harder than it looked. “I will,” she promised. “Be good while I’m gone.”

We followed her halfway down the stairs, stopping as she slipped on her shoes and opened the front door. The door opened the wrong way for us to be able to see him, but I tried to imagine the kind of man that my mother would choose to go out. As hard as I tried, though, the only man I could picture was my dad.

After she walked out, promising she wouldn’t be home too late, Lavender sighed.

“So,” she said lightly, too lightly. “That happened.”

“Yeah,” I said. I headed toward the kitchen, suddenly desperate for something warm. “She looked nice.”

“She did.” Lavender followed me, leaning against the counter. “I’m glad she’s going out again.”

I nodded, wrapping my hands around a mug I hadn’t even filled yet. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “What if she didn’t, though?”

Lavender stilled.

“What if,” I went on, heart pounding now, “this was just… temporary. What if she’s just lonely and she doesn’t actually want this long-term?”

Lavender’s eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing. “Where is this coming from?”

I hesitated. Then, quietly, I admitted, “I saw Dad today.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.

“He said he’d come to the party,” I said finally. The words felt huge in the space. “Just for a bit. Cake.”

Lavender closed her eyes briefly. “Imogen…”

“I know,” I rushed to say. “I know it’s complicated. But it’s our birthday. And it’s not like I told Mum. I just—” I stopped, breath hitching. “I just thought… maybe if he was around more, if things felt normal again…”

“Normal,” Lavender repeated, flat.

I nodded, hope flaring despite everything. “Maybe it could help. Maybe Mum would remember how things used to be. Maybe⁠—”

Lavender pushed off the counter. “No.”

The word cut clean through me.

“No?” I echoed.

“No,” she said again, firmer now. “Imogen, that’s not fair to her.”

My chest tightened. “I just want our family back.”