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Cynthia looks over at Polly with a slight smile on her face. “I’m fine, sweetheart. This is just very hard for me to talk about. I buried these memories long ago, and I need a minute before opening the door on a past I wish I could forget.”
Well, fuck her.
That past she so wishes she could forget involves me.
Chewing the inside of my cheek to stop my string of profanities, I patiently wait, hoping her minute is nearly up.
When she meets my eyes, I tell myself,This is it. No matter what happens, you stay till the bitter end.
“Mia, is what you said true?” She sniffs, wiping away her tears.
“Which part?” I ask, annoyed she’s asking me questions and not vice versa.
“That you…worked for Phil?”
I have no idea how that’s important, as shooting the man she once loved takes precedence over some lame-ass drug dealer.
But I humor her as I nod in response.
She muffles her cries with a trembling hand and begins weeping once again.
Why does she care about Phil? Shouldn’t she be questioning why I shot that pathetic excuse of a man who used to be her husband?
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” She jumps up from her seat like it’s on fire.
But no way am I about to let her leave.
Latching onto her arm as she storms past me, I demand, “What the hell is going on?”
She recoils from my touch as I know I’m gripping her hard, but I won’t let go without knowing what the fuck is going on.
“Mia, I…” She pauses, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I can’t do this.”
“No, you don’t get to do that!” I cry, shaking her harder. “You owe me answers! After all these years, you owe me the goddamn truth!
“I know I’m a disappointment to you, but please,” I beg. “Please, just please, please tell me the truth.”
A betrayal tear slithers down my cheek, but I wipe it away with the back of my hand because I will not allow her to see my grief. But more only follow in its place.
Before I have a chance to wipe them away, Cynthia does something that catches me off guard. With trembling, apprehensive fingers, she slowly reaches forward and brushes away my tears.
I recoil from her touch, but the gentle, unexpected sentiment has more tears falling. “You were never a disappointment to me, Mia.”
“Then why did you leave me? Why did you leave me withhim? Why did you leave me with a monster?”
Cynthia bites her lip, swallowing her tears as she sobs. “I had no other choice.”
“What does that mean?”
But she only shakes her head, indicating this conversation is over.
I feel like I’m about to be sick because I’m left with more questions than answers every time she opens her mouth.
Pollyanna decides now is a good time to intervene.
“Enough,” she spits, yanking on her mother’s arm, pulling her away from me. “You need to leave!”
As I look at the trembling woman before me, who looks about ready to have a mental breakdown, I agree with her for once because no one will surrender today.
