Her cheeks turn red, and she looks young. As if I’m seeing the eighteen year old version of her that met Dad in college. “Then we had you… and… I… we were overjoyed even though we were young and had nothing.”
I clear my throat, and say, “Then how did you manage everything?”
Mom cups my cheek—the one that isn’t bruised—and says, “I love you more than anything in the world, Hope.”
I frown, purely surprised by her words, because her actions towards me have been completely opposite.
“Now, tell me what happened? Why did he hurt you?”
I pull away from her touch and fidget with my hands in my lap, my anxiety multiplying by a factor of hundred. But I give her a brief summary of everything that happened. The moment I mention Heath she sighs and shakes her head as if it justifies why Dad hurt me.
“I told you to stay away from that boy, then what was he doing in your room so late?”
I freeze under her scrutinizing gaze. “He wanted to talk to me.”
“What could he have to say?” Mom presses, long gone are her affection and softness.
“I don’t know,” I blurt out in panic. I can feel the strong and rapid drumming of my heart in every corner of my body. The anxiety that had ebbed before returns now in full force.
Mom watches me intently. Her gaze is so sharp and fierce that it tears down my walls and looks at my heart that contains all my feelings for Heath. Like, care, worry and love. It’s all laid out in front of her in the open and I’ve never felt more vulnerable in my life before.
“Hope, do you like this boy?” Each word is spoken slowly and carefully, as if she’s scared to hear my response.
I’m equally scared to reply because I know what’ll happen.
My gaze averts from her to the pages covering my bedroom floor. The books I cherished so much are now torn pages. The one thing I love the most in the world was damaged by one parent, and now I’m standing on the precipice of allowing another thing that I like—a person—to get ripped apart from me because of other parent.
The irony makes my heart ache. It physically hurts to even think about Heath bearing more burden because of me.
“I don’t,” my voice is steel as I lie to her face.
Mom stares at me. “You do. I can see it in your eyes. Perhaps, you feel even more than just like for him.” She shakes her head, disappointment glistens in her eyes. “I never thought you’d lie to me, especially for some guy.”
He’s not some guy.
I want to scream those words at the top of my lungs.
“Feelings are a passing thing. Whatever you feel for him is invalid. You can get rid of it.”
I don’t want to get rid of it.
“It’s all hormones, honey. You’re at an age where your body is going through many changes and this infatuation or whatever the hell you want to call it feel towards this boy can be ignored.Yourfeelingscan be ignored.”
I look up to her.
My feelings can be ignored.
It means they hold no important value to be treasured, but rather to be tossed away or erased completely because they are invalid.
Mom clasps my hand and I jolt at her warm touch. She cups my face with the other and looks deep into my eyes. “It’s your first time with a boy. It’s the thrill and excitement that’s pulling you towards him. He doesn’t care about you or love you. He’s just playing with you, and before you know it you’ll fall in love and get eloped?—”
We both stiffen at the same time.
Mom is seeing me in her.
She thinks Heath and I are the same as her and dad.
I refuse to believe that. Because what I feel for Heath and what he feels for me is real, pure and strong. He isn’t playing around with me. If he wanted to, he would have made sexual advances at me. If anything he’s taking things at my pace which is basically turtle pace.
