“No,” she interrupts. “You don’t owe him a thing, Emma. You made a choice. And I supported you in that choice. And you’ve donefine.”
My sister has always been protective of me when it comes to Liam Callaghan. Not because he’s a bad guy. She just thought we dove in too deep, too fast. Got too serious before we even knew who we were.
And maybe she was right.
Liam had it rough growing up. His family life was… messy. Dark, sometimes.
And as much as I loved him, being with him wasn’t always easy. Things between us could get complicated in ways I didn’t always understand back then.
I glance at Talia and finish the thought out loud. “I do wonder if seeing him, if him crossing my path like this...maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s time to tell him the truth.”
Talia doesn’t respond right away. We both glance at Laddie, who’s sliding off his chair and carrying his empty bowl to the sink, then turn back toward me with a mischievous grin.
“Time to vamoose, Mama!” he declares, wiggling his little butt for emphasis.
I blink. “Vamoose?”
He nods proudly. “Yeah! It means go, go,go!I learned it from the cartoon with the cowboy dog. He says it when it’s time for adventure.
He grins, that toothless grin of a kindergartner, and I just shake my head at him.
Talia snorts. “You and your cartoons. Your mama needs a minute of rest. She had a long night at the hospital.”
Laddie just giggles, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Come on, Aunt Talia, we’re gonna be late for school if you keep babblin’.”
His tiny confidence makes me laugh, and for a moment, the ache in my chest eases.
“I owe you one,” I say.
“You owe me way more than one, but who’s counting?” As Laddie puts on his shoes, Talia asks, “Are you going to tell him?”
“Who? Laddie?” I ask.
“No. Liam.”
I shake my head. “No. At least, not yet. Who knows what he’s into? I mean, he was really beat up. And you’re right. We’ve all done fine. Laddie’s fine.”
“Laddie is more than fine,” Talia says and grabs her bag from its hook by the door. “He’s smart and well-adjusted and funny, and he doesn’t need...other people. He has us.”
I nod, feeling the tears well again as I watch my loyal, overprotective sister grab my son’s hand and walk out the door.
When the door clicks shut, the quiet hits hard. I let the tears fall again, softer this time, not the storm from before, just a steady, helpless release.
I pad into my bedroom, pull a box from the top shelf of my closet, and sit on the floor. Inside are memories from life in Minnesota, pictures of Talia and me as kids, old report cards, and birthday cards from our parents.
And then, tucked deeper, the ones I shouldn’t look at but always do.
Liam and I.
At prom.
On my birthday.
On the ski slope.
After a championship game, his jersey half off, snow still in his hair.
I stare at each one until my vision blurs.
