change the situation. It won’t bring Mat back to me.
Later—twenty minutes? an hour? two hours?—there’s a soft knock at my door.
“Winnie, are you okay?” Mama’s voice drifts through the wood. “I made tea for you.”
I attempt to sound like a human being. “Thanks, Mama. You can leave it at the door. I’m not feeling well.”
“I knocked earlier. You didn’t answer.”
“I must’ve been asleep.” I was most definitely crying. We must both know that. But, as always, it’s easier to tell a white lie than to wade into the messy truth.
“I’m coming in.” She doesn’t usually give a verbal warning. Usually, she barges in after a quick knock. I think of Mat, announcing his departure, and my eyes sting once again.
Mama walks inside, places a mug of tea on my desk, and sits on my bed. For a moment, we consider each other in the dim light. And then I dive into her arms.
I don’t know if she’s mad at me. I’m not sure where we stand, because we still haven’t discussed the kissing. But she’s Mama, and she’s here, and at this moment, that’s all that matters.
“Shhhhh,” she says into my hair, rocking me gently. “Shhhhh.”
When I was younger, I used to respond to her shushing with, “But I’m not saying anything!” Now, I know that this is just her way of soothing me.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I mumble against her shoulder. “You and Papa trusted me not to kiss him. And I did it anyway.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she says simply. “My entire goal was for you to avoid feeling this pain. If I contributed to your heartbreak by choosing the wrong person…well, then I’ve also failed you.”
I lift my head so that she can see my eyes, bloodshot and all. “You didn’t choose wrong. Mat’s always been a good guy. He still is. We just didn’t work out.”
I wish I could say more. I want to unload to her everything that’s happened. But that’s not how our relationship works. That’s never been the way it functioned.
I still remember Ari patiently explaining to me, in our early teens. Keep your mouth shut when our parents lecture you. The only thing you’re allowed to say is “chai, ka” or “kao jai, ka.”
“Yes” or “I understand.” Didn’t matter if I meant it. These answers merely symbolized that I’d listened. That I’d heard their instruction. That I’d shown the proper respect.
Sometimes, I get so bored of this respect. Yes, it’s important, and yes, it’s my parents’ due. But respect also prevents us from admitting our infractions—and talking about them. That’s what I want. For us to talk. Not as friends, exactly, but certainly without this yawning chasm between us.
Wishes are pointless, however. She’s the only mother I have, and we love each other. That has to be enough.
“What did Papa say?” I wet my lips, a little surprised I have any moisture left in my body. “Is he very mad?”
Mama might be the loud one, but it’s Papa’s reaction that concerns me more. He withdraws when he’s angry, and that’s a whole lot scarier because you don’t know what he’s thinking. You don’t know if you’ve disappointed him—permanently.
Mama sighs, her entire body deflating. “I didn’t tell him about you kissing Mat. So long as you and I can clear the air, I don’t think he needs to know.”
My heart swells. Not telling Papa is huge. I’ve never crossed the line before, not like this. I’m not sure if he would ever forgive me. It’s a testament to Mama’s love that she’s willing to keep my deception a secret.
“Thank you, Mama,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I broke your trust. The kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just an experiment, I guess you could say. It won’t happen again.”
The lie sits on my heart, weighing me down, trying to pull me into the abyss. Who knew I’d get so good at fibbing? But the truth won’t make a difference now. At this moment, my priority is repairing my relationship with Mama.
She nods, giving me one more hug. “Drink your tea,” she says, dropping the subject. This, more than anything, tells me that she does trust me.
And I cannot, I will not, let her down once more.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Don’t be a stranger.
Those were Mat’s last words to me, and the cliché could refer to any number of relationships, from the intense loathing we previously had for each other to the way Kavya embraces everyone she meets with jazz hands and a jazzier heart.