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His body remained rigid at first, but when her shoulders began shaking, one of his hands came up and settled against her back.

I couldn’t make the sight fit inside anything I understood.

My mother pulled away several seconds later, wiping at her face. Ryan said something too quietly for me to hear. She laughed through her tears, and his mouth shifted.

I pushed the door open.

“Mom?”

Every muscle in her body tightened.

Ryan’s hand dropped away from her back as he turned. His eyes met mine, and whatever softness had been there disappeared behind the walls I knew too fucking well.

My mother wiped beneath her eyes. “Charm.”

I stepped onto the patio and let the door close behind me. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

I stared at her. “You’re crying.”

“I know.”

“Ryan was holding you.”

“He was being kind.”

Ryan lifted his hat, dragged one hand through his hair, then shoved it back on. The nervous movement did absolutely nothing to make this look less suspicious.

My mother reached toward my arm. “Darling, Ryan and I were having a private conversation.”

“I gathered that.” I looked between them. “What were you talking about?”

“Thanksgiving. Your treatment. The ways I failed both of you.” Her eyes moved briefly toward Ryan. “I apologized to him.”

“And?”

Ryan’s jaw flexed. “I accepted it.”

I looked at him. “You forgave her?”

He nods, looking at me with something I can’t name.

My mother started to speak, but I held up one hand. “Mom, please.”

“Charm—”

“I’m not being cruel. I’m asking you to give us a minute.”

Her face tightened with concern and it irritated me immediately. “I’m angry,” I said. “I’m not helpless.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You don’t have to stay here until I stop feeling something uncomfortable. I’m allowed to be upset without everybody treating it like a medical event.”

Pain crossed her face. “I know.”

“Then trust me enough to leave.”