Page 169 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

I pulled my hand from his and changed the subject, needing distance from the weight of his confession.

“How did you feel after the confrontation?”

He didn’t comment on the abrupt shift; he didn’t push. He simply followed where I led.

“It felt… nice. Good. Like a weight I’d been carrying my whole life finally lifted.”

He paused.

Then, so quietly I almost missed it, he added, “Is it pathetic that even at the end, all I wanted was for her to actually love me? To really choose me, just once?”

I shook my head slowly, the question hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit.

“No. It’s not pathetic.”

I held his gaze.

“You just wanted your mother to love you. That’s the most basic thing a child wants. There’s nothing pathetic about feeling that, Cassian.”

His eyes stayed on mine, soft and knowing.

“You’re not pathetic either.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I didn’t say I was.”

“Exactly. I’m agreeing with you.”

A small, gentle smile touched his lips.

I shook my head and reached for another hot dog.

“My conversation with my mother went well, if you were wondering.”

His smile turned sheepish.

“I know. She called me.”

I paused mid-bite, then continued, shaking my head.

“I really don’t like you two talking.”

He nudged my shoulder playfully.

“Jealous?”

I scoffed around my mouthful.

“Arrogant much?”

He straightened on the bench.

“I’ll have you know I’m quite a catch. I’ve been getting marriage proposals, too.”

I turned to look at him, my eyebrows climbing.

“Marriage proposals?”