“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, squeezing gently. “Love always is.”
“I think our problems are too complicated,” I make clear. “And we’re different people.”
Mom studies me over the rim of her mug before taking a slow sip. “Your father and I were too different. Different dreams. Different goals. Different life values. Different morals.”
She scoffs at that last one, shaking her head.
“How did you two end up married in the first place?” I ask, realizing I’ve never actually asked her this before.
She exhales, a small, almost bitter smile forming. “He was different when we were younger,” she explains. “We met when I was seventeen and he was eighteen, both working at that little burger joint off Belmount. And maybe… maybe we both had our reasons for getting married that had more to do with escaping our parents' houses than they did with love.”
Her gaze shifts over my shoulder, settling somewhere beyond me, lost in memory.
“But I tried,” she continues. “I really did. I tried to make the most of it.”
There’s a pause, like she’s weighing how much to say.
“I settled.” Her voice drops slightly. “I didn’t know any better at the time, but I settled. And settling…” she trails off, then lets out a soft chuckle that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Settling adds a hard layer to a marriage.”
I lean forward slightly, drawn into her words.
“Your father was unhappy from the start,” she admits. “He thought I should work full-time, keep the house spotless, do all the laundry, the cooking, and make our tiny apartment look perfect. But I was tired, Corbin. He worked the same hours I did, but he wouldn’t lift a damn finger to help me.”
Her fingers tighten slightly around her mug before she shakes her head, as if shaking off the weight of the past.
“Then you came along.” Her expression softens, and she reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “And you were the best part of that marriage for me.”
Something tightens in my chest.
It hurts knowing she didn’t marry someone she couldn’t live without. She married someone she thought she could tolerate. And that didn’t end well.
“I’m sorry that it was hard for you,” I say, meaning it.
“We all make choices,” she exhales heavily, the weight of experience behind her words. “And then we have to live with them. But the moment I saw you with Jules, I knew you weren’t settling. You chose someone who challenged you, who helped you grow—who would always be in your corner.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah, but she didn’t choose someone who would fight for her the way she needed to be fought for.”
Mom tilts her head, studying me. “It’s never too late to change, Corbin.” Her voice is softer now, more certain. “And it’s never too late to fight.”
I let out a breathy chuckle. “Even if you’ve been divorced for two years?”
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. “Even if it’s been fifty years, sweetheart. If it’s worth it, the fight is always worth it.”
I nod slowly, her words settling deep. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right.” She winks at me, mischief dancing in her blue eyes. “Well, I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Since I have to see your father tomorrow, I need my beauty rest. Gotta show him what he missed out on.”
I chuckle as Mom stands and takes her mug over to the sink. “For what it’s worth, Corbin, I think you and Jules have done a good job of putting Tate first.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She grabs her bag on the way up the stairs to the guest room, and I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter.
A new text from Jules.
You up?
I stare at the screen, Mom’s words echoing in my head.
