I clenched my jaw and gripped the phone tighter. “You could’ve just told me where you are.” That would’ve made this conversation more bearable.
“I’m staying with a friend here in LA,” she said nonchalantly. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“I wasn’t.”
Silence again. This time, she didn’t rush to fill it. I could hear people talking faintly in the background. There was music and laughter. Wherever she was, not much had changed for her. She liked parties and big crowds. She loved being in places where she could show off and get attention from whoever was willing to give it.
Mom never called to ask about me. She only ever called to ask about Callan. Because why would she want to know how her daughter was doing?
“Well,” she said finally, “if Callan asks, tell him I said hi.”
“He won’t ask.”
“Oh, don’t be like that.”
“But I’m right, and you know it. Why would he ask about you, Mom? You left him.”
“I didn’tleavehim—”
“Yes, you did.”Just like you left me.
“I shouldn’t have called,” she murmured, sounding more annoyed now. “Every time I call, you ruin my good mood. We can never have a normal conversation because of you.”
Right.
I shook my head to stop myself from telling her exactly what I was thinking. Instead, I asked, “Do you want to know about college?”
Stupid question.
Of course, she didn’t want to hear about college or anything I was doing in life.
“I have to go, honey,” she said, sounding all apologetic. “Maybe another time, okay? All right, bye-bye.”
She hung up before I could respond.
Lowering the phone to my lap, I sat there on the bench with my heart aching in the worst way.
For a few seconds, I just stared at my phone, waiting for it to light up again, even though I knew it wouldn’t. She nevercalled back. Never texted after hanging up. Never apologized for the way she treated me.
The ache in my chest grew heavier, and I pressed my palm against it like that would stop it from spreading. I blinked hard to clear my eyes as they blurred again. No. I wasn’t going to cry, not over her. She didn’t deserve that kind of space in my head.
I sucked in a breath through my teeth and let out a quiet, angry laugh. “Unbelievable,” I muttered. My voice cracked, and that made me even more furious. “Every damn time.”
It wasn’t even what she said. It was how easily she brushed me off, like I was some random person bothering her at the wrong moment. Like she didn’t even realize how much damage she’d done.
She never did.
A tear slipped down anyway. I wiped it away fast, shaking my head. “Nope. Not doing this.”
But another one came, and then a few more until I gave up trying to blink them back. I sat there crying quietly, watching the city below me. When the tears finally slowed, I reached for my phone again and scrolled to my recent calls. Her name sat there at the top. I thought about deleting it. I thought about blocking her. But I didn’t.
I just stared at the screen, jaw tight, and whispered, “I’m just fine on my own. I don’t need you.”
I put the phone back in my bag, then stood up to head to my car. But not before taking one last look at the city. Somewhere down there, my mother was laughing with strangers, pretending her life was perfect. Acting like she didn’t leave her daughter behind.
Let her, I told myself.You’re better off without her.
She’d already taken enough from me.
