Page 14 of Rejected Heart

Font Size:

Page 14 of Rejected Heart

I nodded. “Yes.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, and the approval was written all over her face. “Then we’ll go out this weekend to look for a dress.”

“But can we?—”

“If you don’t think I haven’t been setting money aside whenever we have extra, you’re mistaken,” she shared. “Life hasn’t exactly turned out the way I expected or hoped it would, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pay to buy my daughter a dress to wear to a Christmas party. We’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Sad eyes and a sorrowful expression were sent my way. “I hate that the hand we were dealt has led to you feeling the need to worry about things like this. So muchof what we’ve endured isn’t what I ever envisioned for you. Even if I didn’t have a penny saved yet, I would find a way to make sure you could attend this party. You deserve to go, Layla. I want you to go and have a wonderful time.”

I had the best, most hard-working mom in the world. We didn’t have a lot, but she made sure we had everything we needed.

I stood, moved to the couch, and sat down right beside her. Wrapping my arms around her, feeling moved by the fortune I experienced at having her as my mother, my throat was tight when I spoke. “Thanks, Mom.”

She hugged me back tightly. “There’s no need for thanks. Nobody deserves to have a night of fun and glamour more than you.”

I pulled my head back, allowing my eyes to search her face. “You do.”

Brushing a lock of my hair from my face, she insisted, “I did. Many years ago, I had precisely that.”

A wave of respect for my mom washed over me. She didn’t have to give more details for me to know she was talking about my father. I’d gotten bits and pieces of them over the years whenever I asked about him, and my mom willingly shared. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he wasn’t here with us now, I never would have known that my mom’s heart had ever been broken, because she never spoke badly about him. She told me whatever I wanted to know, and she did it without any malice in her heart.

Sometimes, I wondered how she did it.

I missed him, and I didn’t know him the way she had.

She might not have ever said one horrible thing about him, but her eyes got this look whenever she was thinking about him. Like she’d loved and lost everything. Like she didn’t understand where she went wrong.

Despite how deep that devastation ran for her, she always put me first. And that made me appreciate her even more.

“I love you, Mom.”

“Oh, honey, I love you, too.”

The two of us stayed like that for a while, falling into a quiet comfort as we shifted our attention to the television. Eventually, my eyelids got heavy, and I drifted.

But I did it feeling grateful for the mom I had and excited for the night out with Liam. It would truly be the best Christmas present.

4

LAYLA

Nearly two monthshad passed since our class took that field trip and Liam Westwood entered my life. The last two months had been the most exciting of my whole life.

I could hardly believe I was here now, mere minutes away from Liam arriving to pick me up for the Christmas party.

My mom had taken me out shopping for a dress, and she hadn’t hesitated to make sure I had something that was utterly stunning. I was in an honest-to-goodness ballgown, something I never thought I’d see. It was a gorgeous navy-blue with a sweetheart neckline and lace cap sleeves. There were floral applique embellishments and a sweeping hemline that, with each step I took, made it appear as though I was gliding across the room. The gown was the most exquisite thing I’d ever worn. It made me feel like royalty, like a real princess.

We’d spent extra time on my hair, putting some large,loose curls in it before pinning parts of it back and allowing some of those curls to fall freely around my face. I didn’t typically wear tons of makeup, but for this occasion, I thought it was appropriate to have some on to complete the look.

“You look so beautiful,” my mom said after I’d slipped on my silver shoes and descended the stairs to stand in front of her.

I smiled at her, my heart bursting with love for this woman. She’d given up so much to give me all that she had. I’d be forever in her debt. “Thank you for this, Mom. I feel so pretty.”

She moved toward me and gave me a hug. “That’s because you are. It isn’t the dress or the hair or the makeup that did it.”

Just as soon as she loosened her hold on me, the doorbell rang. “He’s here!” I bubbled, squeezing my mom’s hands in mine.


Articles you may like