“And you wished you would’ve had a backup,” I finish for her. “Look, I know you’re worried I’m going to end up feeling like you did, but that’s for me to find out. It’s my life, and right now I just don’t see myself ever changing my mind. Besides, it’s not like you didn’t end up having a backup. You opened an entire circus, for crying out loud!”
Mom bites her lip, and I realize she hasn’t finished telling me the truth. “I was only able to open Teatro della Notte because I had your father’s help. His… financial support.”
I frown, not understanding what that’s supposed to mean.
Mom’s cheeks darken, like she’s ashamed. “I felt like I owed your father so much. More than I could ever pay back. And I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to depend on someone, or owe them anything. I wanted you to have the freedom to make your own choices without struggling. The choice to travel, or change jobs, or… leave.”
Leave.
I feel sick. “Are you saying you want to leave Dad?”
Mom shakes her head quickly, the tears building again. “No. I mean, not exactly. Not anymore.” She shuts her eyes and presses her lips together. “It’s complicated.”
My blood starts to heat up. “Does Dad know how you feel? Does he know you want to split up?”
“I do not want to split up with him,” Mom says, and she does actually sound certain despite her previous words. “But your dad and I have been best friends for most of our lives. I know you called him a ghost, but for me he’s been an anchor. He’s always been there for me, just like I’ve always been there for him. And that hasn’t changed. We are still best friends, and we love each other. But… well, all I’m saying is that I didn’t feel like I was allowed the choice to fall out of love with him. Romantically. Because by that point we had a daughter, and I depended on him for everything—even all the physical care that was required after I broke my leg—and I just felt trapped. Like, the more he did, the more I couldn’t do. I’m not saying any of this is his fault—it’s nobody’s fault—but I wanted something different for you. I wanted you to be independent, so you always, always had options. More than I felt like I had.”
I don’t know how to comprehend what she’s saying to me. Mom and Dad always seemed so in love. So perfect together.
It doesn’t make sense she wouldn’t want it. She was a part of it.
“It’s complicated,” Mom says again. “And I know it’s confusing to hear. But sometimes love changes. Not necessarily to something less, or more, but just—different. But how much we both love you? That’s never changed. I love you the most you could possibly love anyone, and it’s been like that since the moment I knew you were in my belly.”
I hear her words and let them sink in.
“I’m not telling you this for any reason other than that I just want you to know why,” Mom says quietly. “Maybe it will explain why I sometimes pushed too hard.”
“Okay,” I say.
She smiles, relieved. “Okay.”
I raise a brow. “This doesn’t change how I feel about the circus. But thank you for telling me.”
Mom laughs. “I figured that. And I suppose community college isn’t the end of the world. But promise me that if you change your mind, you won’t be too stubborn to tell me? Because if you ever wanted to take more classes…” Her voice trails off and she smiles.
I hold up a hand. “I swear, if I decide I’m missing out on dorm and sorority life, you will be the very first person to know.”
She wipes her tears away and sighs, frowning. “So does this mean you don’t want the university hoodies I bought the other day? Because I got one for me, too. And your dad.”
I laugh first, and then Mom follows, and we don’t stop until a nurse sticks her head in the room because she heard all the noise and worried something was wrong.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
It takes a while before Popo is feeling better. But in that time, I realize I’ve been feeling better too.
The clouds still linger, but they aren’t as black. Sometimes I forget they’re there at all.
Popo says she’s proud of me for staying true to myself, and that she’s sorry she took all