Page 60 of Until the Last Star Fades

“Yep. I have to stay awake for this one. The speaker is an assistant director at Warner Bros., and she’s talking about working with actors and procedures on set in Burbank.”

“Sounds right up your alley.” Maggie licked her spoon. “If you have to leave now, sweetheart, I’ll be fine. I can’t wait to dive into my new book.”

“I can stay for another forty minutes. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Riley’s chuckle quickly retreated along with her smile as her spoon dug around her glass of yogurt and granola, a weighty silence settling over the table.

“Honey…” Maggie bit the corner of her lip. “Is something bothering you—”

“No.”

“Riley.” She covered her daughter’s hand with her own. “Don’t shut me out. Talk to me. Something’s up…”

Shit. Riley stuffed a spoonful of granola in her mouth. “I’m fine.” She mumbled while chewing. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Maggie sighed. “I should’ve made you go back.”

“Go back? Where?” Riley swallowed. “My apartment?”

“To therapy—when you were in high school.”

“W-What? Why?”

“You seemed happier.” Maggie’s chin quivered. “But it didn’t last and I didn’t do anything about it. I let you down.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “No, you didn’t. You had just been diagnosed with cervical cancer.”

“Cancer doesn’t erase parental responsibilities.”

“You make it sound like I went without food or shelter. Mom, you were in agony, recovering from surgery, dealing with radiation, chemo. Your hands were more than full! And I did okay, didn’t I? I still made honor roll, volunteered at the shelter, kept my part-time job.”

“And I was so proud of you! But if you’d kept up your sessions, maybe your depression wouldn’t have recurred. Maybe you wouldn’t be feeling like this again. Riley, we need to talk about it. We need to deal with it, properly. It’s nothing to be ashamed about—”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Everyone gets sad sometimes. That’s life.”

“But this is more than being sad, sweetheart.”

It is, but… Riley chipped at a cluster of almonds and oats with her spoon.

Maggie ducked her head, trying to see past Riley’s hair. “It’s Josh, isn’t it? The engagement.”

Riley’s body tensed. CRUNCH. The spoon broke through the chunk of granola. Crap. Her eyebrows lifted innocently. “Josh? No.” A half-smile fought her stiff cheeks.

Maggie squeezed her hand. “Riley, you can call it off.”

She avoided her mom’s gaze, her throat tightening, refusing to give in. “I don’t want to call it off.”

“If you’re happy and want to spend the rest of your life with him, I’ll support your decision, but if you’re unsure, feeling pressured, or scared about breaking up with him, you can tell me. I’ll listen and we’ll work through it together.”

“I want to marry him.” Why isn’t she buying it? Riley met her mom’s eyes, her voice flat yet determined. “Why do I have to justify my decision?”

“When you talk about it, you don’t look happy—and that scares me.”

Riley scoffed, pulling her hand away. “What you see is exhaustion, Mom. I’m scrambling to complete everything before graduation and I haven’t slept well for weeks. My apartment is hell on wheels—it’s boiling and sweaty and I’m lucky if I can catch four hours a night.”

“And my situation isn’t helping.” Maggie adjusted the pretty blue scarf on her head.

“I’d worry about you even if you didn’t have cancer. You’re my mom, and I love you more than anything.”

Maggie smiled softly.