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“I’m scared to tell you, Mom,” she sobbed into my chest.
I held her closer to me and squeezed. “You don’t ever have to be scared to tell me anything. There isn’t a thing in the world that could ever make me love you less. Do you understand that?”
My mind raced with what could possibly be bothering her still. Sex? Pregnancy? Grades? I thought of all the typical teenage things. She had to know I’d stand by her no matter what. Even if all that did worry me to damn death. I’d still be there for her, no matter what.
God, how could she not know? She was my favorite person in the whole world. In fact, she was my whole world. She was the only reason I’d kept it together after Andrew’s death. She was just…my reason. My entire reason. How could she doubt that for even one stinking second?
She pulled out of our embrace and looked up at me, tears and apprehension hanging in them.
I prayed with my whole heart that she could see nothing but acceptance in mine because I wanted more than anything for her to trust me with whatever this was.
“I’m gay,” she said softly. So softly I thought maybe I’d misheard her or perhaps I’d heard her wrong.
I felt my forehead furrow, trying to understand, wanting to comprehend, but truly shocked to my core.
I hadn’t seen that one coming. And I’d been thinking a lot about what could have been bothering her lately. And her being gay had never occurred to me.
So, I sat there in my feels, feeling like a horrible mom for being this blindsided.
How had I not noticed?
What signs had I missed?
Had I let my grief take over to the point that I didn’t even know my own daughter?
I remembered the day in my bedroom when I’d asked if it was a boy who was bothering her and her being so angry that I’d asked that. I thought about her telling me it was gross.
Fuck. I had fucked up and missed it.
The guilt of that felt so heavy, that I thought I would buckle under the weight of it.
“Oh, God. You hate me, don’t you?” she cried, pulling away from me and burying her face in the couch.
Leaning over her, I snatched her to me. Stupid me, I’d been so blindsided I hadn’t even taken the time to reassure her. I’d been too caught in how I felt.
And that just made me feel like the worst person and mother ever. It reminded me of Weston calling me selfish and I thought maybe he was right. I was.
“I could never hate you, Parker. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I shook her a little. “Do you hear me? You’re my life’s biggest accomplishment. You being gay or straight is not a deciding factor in that.”
“You promise?” she asked, burying her face in my chest.
“I promise, baby. I’m so proud of you. I know that must have been hard for you to tell me. And I’m so proud of you for being so brave,” I said into the top of her hair. “How long have you known?” I asked, wanting so many details. I had too many questions.
She shrugged. “I guess I’ve always known. But here recently it’s become glaringly obvious.” She looked so sad.
“Prisha?” I asked because it all made sense now. My girl had a crush on her and I could see why Prisha ghosting her would make her so very upset.
“Yeah, I stupidly told her I liked her. Like, liked her liked her, after the accident and now she’s not even speaking to me.” She blew out a long breath.
Oh, God. Her first heartbreak.
“It’s her loss, you know. You’re quite the catch, baby girl.” I had a million more questions. Like was Prisha gay or straight? Had she ever kissed another girl? But I held them all in as best as I could because I figured we had plenty of time to discuss all that.
She’d just laid it all out there for me and I needed to respect that and give her a little privacy with the rest for now. It was hard, though, because I wanted to know it all.
But if there was one thing I knew about teenagers it was that they were not receptive to a million nagging questions. I knew I’d know more in time.
I lay back into the corner of the sofa and dragged Parker along with me, careful of her booted ankle until she was cuddled up in the crease with her head on my chest.
