Mom sets down her fork while Dad shoves another bite into his mouth. Sam wipes her face, and Ethan looks down at his plate, chopping up his slab of lasagna.
After a beat of silence, Mom speaks. “We just didn’t want to mess up, Esme. The doctor said you should discover the forgotten memories on your own. He said we risked implanting false memories if we attempted to fill in gaps we had no knowledge of. So, we came up with the idea of the jet ski accident because it would cause less trauma than telling you that you were almost kidnapped, attacked, and watched a man almost die.”
“We thought Noah would die,” Dad adds. At the horror on my face, he quickly says, “We were relieved when we heard he survived, but by that point, you were starting to get back on your feet. We didn’t want anything to set back your healing.”
Surprising me, Ethan speaks up, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “And face it, Esme. How were we supposed to know that Noah wasn’t the guy who got you into that mess in the first place? Dad was just trying to keep you safe by turning him away.”
Oh.Oh. My brother has blamed Noah this entire time.
Sam visibly shrinks.
“Look,” I say, looking each of them in the eyes and mustering as much appreciation in my tone as I can. “I get it. I do. I understand. But it doesn’t excuse the deception. What if my memories would have come back with the truth? What if it’s been too long, and even the truth won’t set them free?” My voicecracks over the last word, and I shift my gaze upward to keep tears from spilling over.
Mom stands and moves to place a hand on my shoulder. “Sweetie, we are terribly sorry. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have lied regardless of the situation.”
“Please forgive us, Esme,” Dad tacks on. “I wish we could take it back, but the only thing we can do is move forward.”
I want to believe them. I do. Something still bothers me, however. “Why would you keep a man away from me when you’ve shoved the importance of stability down my throat all of these years? Wouldn’t getting married help provide stability?”
Mom blinks at me a few times while Dad whistles low. “That’s yours to tackle, Melina.”
Mom gives Dad an odd look. Then, to me, she says, “Of course I want you to get married one day. And to have stability. But Esme, I don’t want you to just marry any ole man off the street. Marriage is sacred. You should only marry someone when you knowthat you knowthat person is your forever. It’s why I had my qualms about you marrying Bryan.”
“You didn’t want me to marry him?” My jaw drops at this revelation.
Mom wipes a tear from her eye. “No, not really. He gave all of us a bad vibe. But we weren’t going to interfere. It’s your life.”
I want to laugh at the hypocrisy, but I don’t. Because Mom only tried to control my life when I was still trying to figure out what happened to it. It dawns on me that she was simply a terrified mother unsure of what was going on. Just as I was attempting to figure things out, too. She wanted to protect me, and while I still don’t like how she went about it, I think I understand. But all this time… I’ve thought she was ready to push me out of the house and hitch me to the first man she saw. But no. That was a false reality I concocted in my head. A motive I assigned to her without questioning it.
The tears push their way out as I stand and hug Mom. “I’m so sorry for worrying y’all over the past week. I just needed space.”
“We know, sweetie.” Mom silently cries onto my shoulder. “But did you really think I wanted to marry you off quickly in the name of stability?”
I nod, sniffling.
Mom whispers against my ear as she hugs me close. “Sweetie, I need you to know that I want you to have a marriage full of love and romance and friendship, just like I have with your father. Stability is important, but who you marry is the most important decision you can make outside of giving your life to the Lord. When the Lord brings that man into your life, you will know it. Just as I knew your father was the one for me.”
Dad joins the hug as I break into heavier sobs, and before we know it, he squeezes us tight and picks us both up. “I love my girls.”
We break into tearful laughs, and when my feet are planted firmly back onto the floor, I narrow my eyes at my brother.
“Ethan,” I drag out his name through my ragged breaths. “Get over here.”
He rolls his eyes, but I don’t miss the smile hiding behind his bearded face. Sam pushes Ethan out of his chair and drags him to the hug pile. I stand there, surrounded by my family, feeling a little more whole than I have in a while. It’s true what they say—fights bring family closer together. When you can trust someone enough to fight with them, beautiful bridges are built to bury all of the nasty water under it.
Ethan mutters against my ear as his brown beard scratches my cheek. “I’m sorry, Meme. I just don’t ever want to see you unconscious on a hospital bed again. You hear me? And no more forgetting years of memories between us.”
Tears spring free once more, but this time, they’re ones of completeness and healing. I sometimes forget that myinfirmities impacted those closest to me. We all have mountains to overcome together.
“And for the record,” Ethan adds, “I did try to talk you out of marrying Bryan. You got hot mad at me and Sam over it.”
“Well, thank you, I guess. And sorry for getting mad.”
Ethan steps back and shrugs while Sam laughs.
“Mom,” I say, breaking free from the huddle. “I wrote in my book that you pushed me to go on my honeymoon to find someone new. Is that true?”
“Well, I said that, yeah. But mainly because I wanted you to go out and experience something your father and I have never been able to afford to do. I didn’t really want you to meet some stranger on an island halfway across the world.”
