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I pull away from the couch before the leather melds to my body. In front of the coffee table is a fireplace and mounted flat-screen TV. On the ledge just below sits three plants overtaking their little pots and growing around two framed pictures.
One of them is a wedding photo with the bride and groom surrounded by people. I don’t even think my parents had a wedding, just a court-signed document.
She looks beautiful and happy with her new family.
I bite my lip, looking at the second photo. A family portrait with her new son and husband.
“I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to show.” I jump at her words as she holds out the water glass. “Honestly, I thought you were just going to drive off without even knocking.”
“You were watching?” I ask.
She nods before reaching out and taking the framed family portrait.
I swallow the rock in my throat. “How old is he?”
She eyes me for a second. “Ten.”
“You had him the same year you left.” I’m not asking a question. My tone comes out more like an accusation.
“I knew his dad before leaving. He’s the one that helped me start over.”
“You mean leave me?”
Pain washes over her, causing her shoulders to sag. “I’m so sorry I left you. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you.”
My jaw clenches. “Yet it took you ten years to reach out.”
“I was still legally married to your father, and I wasn’t sure how he would take me leaving.”
“So, you left me to handle it myself?” I question, hearing a crack in my voice.
“I did my best to hide how your father treated me, but I also could only take so much.”
“Dad didn’t want me either. He threw me away the minute I turned eighteen. I’ve been living on my own for eight months.” My teeth grind even harder. “While my friends are off planning college life, I’m working two jobs just to pay the bills.”
A tear rolls down her face, and she quickly wipes it away with a soft whimper. “I’m so sorry, Ollie.” She sniffles before continuing, “I knew you turned eighteen last year, and that’s when I reached out because your father no longer had a legal right to hold onto you. I begged him to give me your info so I could make up for my mistakes. I should have brought you with me, but I was so scared.”
My anger falters. She’s full-on trembling as she uses the photo frame to cover her face.
I want to reach out and hold her. Even without her in my life, I still feel that parental bond. The same soft voice she used to assure me she was fine even while drying her tears.
Then I see him again—her son, my brother—standing in the kitchen doorway, wide-eyed and full of innocence.
Did I look that innocent when Simon and I would climb on the roof and look down at the world below?
I reach around my mom, pull her into a hug, and whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“No!” she bawls into my shirt. “You have nothing to apologize for!”
“That might be true, but I’m sorry for making you cry. A son should never make his mom cry.”
This makes her cry louder, and she tightens her arms around me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Oliver
After we spend another twenty minutes collecting ourselves, it is time to bail because looking at her new family is more heartbreaking than I thought it would be.
