I sniff, eventually nodding. “Yeah.”
“Aw, baby.” Mama touches my cheek.
“I just wanted someone to share my experiences with, you know? I thought…” I swallow. “She was it. The one.” I sniff again, my throat swelling until it’s painful.
“Well, maybe you’ll fall in love with a girl overseas.” Mama pats my thigh, forcing a bright tone that none of us can buy into.
I throw her a pained frown, and her shoulders sag.
“I know, baby. She really caught your heart, didn’t she?”
Clenching my jaw, I try to nod, but I can’t seem to do anything.
Mama stands with a tut and walks to the coffee table. Snatching the ticket, she brings it back to me. “You have to go. You have to at least try, because what if she’s ready?”
“What if she’s not?”
“Then you go without her. But if you don’t find out for sure where she stands, then you’ll never be able to truly let it go.”
“I’m guessing the second you see each other, you’ll get a gut feeling.” Dad nods, glancing at Mama with a tenderness that’s so blatant it makes my heart squeeze. I want to look at my woman that way.
I want to look atDanithat way.
The fact that I can’t stop thinking about her has to be a sign, right? I just can’t seem to let her go.
Staring at the ticket in Mama’s hand, I hesitate.
“You’ll get closure or you’ll win her back. Either way, you have to do this, boy.” Mama’s voice is borderline pleading.
Do I really want to put myself through that?
What if she’s moved on and I’m the fool who’s been clinging to this unrequited love?
But what if she’s hoping to see you there? What if she’s ready for you?
With my heart in my throat, I take the ticket from Mama and stare down at the QR code.
This is it.
My chance.
And I have to take it.
“You won’t regret it, son,” Dad assures me while Mama leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“Now go shower before I faint from exposure to toxic fumes.”
“Hey, you were the one who had to do the talking now,” I tease her.
She laughs, pushing my shoulder with a soft “Go on witcha. Get clean.”
I stand and pause before leaving the room. Looking between my parents, I give them a heartfelt thank you. “Your support means the world to me. You know that, right?”
“You mean the world to us.” Dad smiles at me.
“We’re proud of you.” Mama pats my cheek. “And I’m gonna miss you like crazy, but as long as you keep sending me photos and giving me updates, I will survive.”
She starts singing that Gloria Gaynor song as she collects Dad’s empty mug, then hers, before heading into the kitchen.
