Chapter 395
For I’m frozen, watching her fall apart in a way I’ve never seen before, not sure what to do and then I move, closing the distance between us without thinking and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me as tightly as I can without hurting her. She collapses into me instantly, like she’s been holding herself together for far too long and finally has somewhere safe to break.
“Shh, it’s okay Mom, you’re going to be okay.” I whisper, my voice barely steady as I hold her.
She clings to me, her hands gripping onto my shirt as her sobs grow louder, more desperate, like she’s trying to release years of pain all at once. I can feel it in the way she shakes, in the way her breath keeps catching, in the way she keeps repeating his name like she’s afraid it might disappear if she stops saying it.
All I can do is hold her the way she’s held me countless times before. The way she’s been my strength countless times. My pillar when I didn’t feel strong enough to face whatever was drowning me at the time.
My chest aches as I press my cheek against her head, my own tears slipping free as everything begins to settle inside me in a way I didn’t expect.
All my life, I thought my father didn’t want me. That he walked away. I thought he chose to leave us behind, but now I know he didn’t.
My heart shatters all over again as the truth sinks in, and somehow this feels so much worse. It was easier believing he didn’t want me. Easier believing he was somewhere out there in the world, living his life without us, but this… this is different.
Knowing that he died long before I was even born tears something open inside me that I don’t know how to close. The thought that he never got to know I existed, that he never got the chance to meet me, to hold me, to even hear about me breaks me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, because now I’m left with something I can never change; There’s no chance of ever hearing his voice or seeing his face outside of memories that don’t belong to me.
My arms tighten around Mom as another wave of emotion crashes through me, and I bury my face into her hair, trying to steady myself while holding her together at the same time.
It hurts; heavens, does it fucking hurt, but beneath all of that pain, beneath the grief and the anger and the questions I’ll never get answers to, there’s relief because now I know I wasn’t unwanted.
I take a deep breath, wipe away the tears and push aside my feelings as I focus on Mom. My grip on her tightens without me realizing it as I pull strength from within. She needs me now, more than ever.
“I’m here, Mom,” I murmur softly, even though I know those words aren’t nearly enough to take away what she’s feeling. “I’ve got you p>
She cries harder against me, and I just let her, because for the first time, I understand. I understand why she never spoke about him. It wasn’t because she didn’t care. It was because she cared too much. Because loving him never stopped, and losing him never stopped hurting.
“He loved you,” I whisper softly, my hand moving gently up and down her back. “He loved you so much… he never stopped p>
I repeat the words to her over and over again, hoping that somehow they reach her, that they sink past the pain and settle somewhere they can begin to heal what has been broken for so long.
She grips onto me, her fingers clutching at my clothes as if she’s afraid I might disappear too. Fresh tears spill from her eyes, but something starts to change, like the truth is starting to settle, even if it still hurts.
Her lips tremble as she leans deeper into me, her eyes closing as more tears slip free. I hold her through it until her sobs begin to quiet and eventually fade into soft, uneven breaths.
She sniffles, taking a moment to steady herself before slowly pulling back. There’s a small smile on her face, like she’s trying to piece herself together again.
“I made your t-shirt wet,” she says softly, a hint of shyness in her voice.
I let out a small chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about p>
“It’s your favorite shirt,” she murmurs.
“So?” I reply lightly, brushing my thumb under her eye to wipe away the last of her tears. “A little crying never hurt anyone p>
Before she can respond, I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and right on cue, a faint smile tugs at her lips.
“Okay, stop,” she says, though there’s no real protest in her voice.
I don’t listen. Instead, I lean in again, pressing another kiss to her cheek, then another, until she lets out a small laugh. Her shoulders finally relax, and for the first time since all of this started, I see a glimpse of her
We continue holding onto each other until a throat clears and only then do I remember that Lilly and Aunt Harper were present with us.
“I don’t get it,” Lilly says after a moment, her brows pulling together as she looks between Mom and Aunt Harper. “If you knew his last name, how was it so hard to find Uncle Andrew? Even if the family wasn’t as prominent as it used to be, a simple search should have brought something up p>