I felt sick.
The idea that she thought I was manipulating her into staying with me was upsetting. I’d never do anything to hurt Carmen intentionally, but she was being stubborn for no reason. Staying in Italy was not the end of the world. And ending our engagement over this was so disappointing.
It made me wonder if she ever truly loved me, if that love could break so easily.
I made it back to the living room, but I didn’t sit. I couldn’t. My chest felt like it was caving in on itself.
Why couldn’t she see I was trying?
Why couldn’t she understand that the idea of going back to that life without her—without waking up next to her, touching her, hearing her voice—felt like a slow death?
She made everything alive.
Now the silence and loneliness were back, and it was crueler than ever.
My phone ringing broke up the quiet.
Mom.
I groaned as I answered it. “Woman, you have a talent for calling me at the worst possible times of my life. Do you know that?”
Her voice came sharp, as if she’d been waiting for this. “Theodore, please. For once, act like this is your mother you’re talking to. Not some bitch off the street.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, already irritated. “What do you want, Mom? What?” My voice came out flatter than I intended.
“I want some damn respect, but it doesn’t look like that’s happening, so maybe I should just hang up.”
I sighed, already seeing where this was headed. “Is this about money?”
A bitter, joyless laugh shot through the speaker. “Ha! You sound just like your father.”
I want to vomit.
“Not everything is about money, Theodore. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past month. Now you decide to answer, and you accuse me of being after your money. Made in Wendell’s image.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Mother, it’s late here. I want to go to bed. Why are you calling?”
“Because…” Her voice softened, a tremor underneath. “I want to apologize.”
I froze.
“Come again?”
“I’ve been calling you for weeks because I don’t like how our last conversation went. I want to apologize for my behavior.”
I frowned, confused. “Are you drunk?”
“Theodore,” she said, voice raw, “I’m not going to pretend I’m perfect or that I was the perfect mother. I know I hurt you. Iknow I’ve hurt your sisters. Hell, I may have even hurt Wendell in some way.”
Her voice cracked, and my throat tightened with it. I hated how easily she could still pull this kind of response out of me. “But… seeing what Kassandra is going through with losing Ava, seeing how much pain she’s in, and knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Knowing that I can lose my children and it be all my fault…”
She paused, breath shaky. “Knowing my actions and drinking habits have pushed you all so far away that Kassandra doesn’t trust me as a shoulder to cry on, Alyssa doesn’t visit even though she lives five minutes away, and you… you moved halfway around the world to get away from me.”
I closed my eyes. “… You had some weight in my decision. But it’s not just you. I have responsibilities.”
“Well,” she said softly, “I know what I know. And whether you like it or not—I know you.”
I opened my eyes slowly. “You don’t.”
