wasn’t my mother. She was a woman who raised a little girl because her sister was too much of a fucking coward to step up and admit to her mistakes.”
“Please, Nesrin,” she pleads, but all I see is red.
“You know what, I spent my life wanting to be like you. But now I see that I’m, thankfully, nothing like you, and I never will be. Because you know what, Mom, I will always take responsibility for my misgivings. And when I do make a mistake, I’ll own up to it, no matter how painful it is.”
The words finally slow down, my throat burning, and my eyes filling with angry tears. I blink slowly, allowing them to trickle from me, to wash away the rage that’s slowly burning through every vein in my body.
“I didn’t mean for you to go through that. I believed she’d be there for you. Even though her love for her career took all her focus, I thought, I really thought, she’d love you.”
No amount of apologies can make up for what I went through. I don’t blame anyone for my choices. Even though I was a child and needed the stability and guidance of a parent, I was the one who picked up the blade. I knew what I was doing, even when I didn’t realize it at the time.
“I’m disappointed that the woman I thought I knew is not the person I grew up with as my hero.” My voice breaks, as the overload of emotions from the past couple of days takes its toll. “I’m leaving tonight. I won’t be back for a long time. I don’t know how to move past this pain,” I tell her solemnly, gesturing between us. “But I know I’m strong. I’m so much stronger than either you or Mom, Marcia, gave me credit for. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve admitted them, and I’m willing to work through them.”
“Don’t go. Stay, and we can get to know each other. There’s a good school a town over. I’m sure Bradford will be happy for you to live there, or, if you’d like, you can stay here.”
“No. I’m leaving. I need to get away from the lies, from the darkness of you and your sister.”
“Then promise me you’ll write, text, call, something?” she pleads, grabbing my hands in hers and holding onto them. Those eyes that always sparkled with life, with happiness, are dull and filled with pain.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I just need you to know I loved you. When I found out I was pregnant, it was the happiest time of my life, but your father was in love with my sister, and… And I knew I would never be able to raise you on my own. All I wanted was for you to have a normal family.”
“And all I ever wanted was a mother who loved me.”
The tears flow freely now, hers and mine. The pain that hangs in the air between us is palpable. So thick, you could cut it with a knife.
“I should’ve stayed. I should’ve kept you with me, but when I lost your dad, when he chose her over me, it felt as if my world had been torn apart. And, knowing I had you should’ve been enough, but I was young and stupid.” Her watery gaze locks on mine, and I see it, the guilt, the pain, the fear, everything. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in her shoes at that time. Perhaps I was overly harsh, maybe I’m too angry, and I should be more understanding.
I don’t know.
This is new to me.
“I just… I need time,” I tell her. “I need to be free for a while, and I’m going to London.”
A small smile plays on her lips, and she glances at Damien. When I turn to look at him, I find him leaning against the door jamb, his arms folded across his chest, those sparkling orbs regarding me.
“Look after my girl,” she tells him.
A parent should be there through your life to guide you when you’re unsure, hold you when you’re sad, and love you even when you’re not whole. I never had that. But I’m strong, and I know I’ll survive.
“She’s a good girl,” Damien tells her. “And I’ll be by her side always. Even if she does push me away, I’m not giving up on her. I’m not her father,” he speaks confidently, which makes my heart skip a beat.
I glance at Mallory again, taking in