“Yes.No.I don’t know.”I pinched the bridge of my nose.“Here’s this man who admitted he planned to abduct me to hurt Victor.So what if he intervened when someone Victor hired tried to do the same thing?”
Her expression changed, eyes widening as my words registered in her brain.“Victor did that?”
“Victor’s done a lot of horrible things,” I muttered under my breath, unsure if I was ready to discuss the last ten years in detail.
But I didn’t have to.
My mother took my hand and squeezed, her fingers thin but steady.
As if she already knew everything I’d endured.
Everything I’d survived.
“And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she whispered, her eyes glistening.“Why did Henry want to hurt him?Apart from Victor being a worthless piece of shit.”
“He thinks Victor had something to do with his daughter’s death.”
“Henry has a daughter?”
“He did.”I smiled sadly.“Her body was found in a suite at Victor’s hotel in Santa Monica a few months ago.It was ruled a suicide.But according to her brother, she’d been seeing someone older.Someone named Victor.Henry also found a payment from Victor to a DA around that time.He thinks Victor killed her and paid to cover it up.”
“I see.”Her thumb brushed over my knuckles, slow and thoughtful.“And because of your…unconventional beginnings, you’re not sure you can trust him.”
“Can you blame me?I trusted Victor in the beginning, too.”My throat tightened.“He ended up being the monster you warned me about.I should have listened to you.”
“Hey.”She squeezed again, firmer this time.“That’s no way to live, baby.Regret’s too heavy a thing to carry.We can’t change the past.We can only use it to navigate what comes next.”Her eyes softened.“I told you yesterday.Listen to your heart.”
“I’m not sure I can trust my heart.”
“Do me a favor and close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re stuck in your head.”Her smile grew wistful.“You’re like your father that way.He’d get lost up there too, turning problems over until he couldn’t see the answer that had been right in front of him all along.But some choices need the heart, not the head.So… Close.Your.Eyes.”
I sighed, not seeing how this could help.
My mother had always been a littlewoo-woo,as she called it.Psychics.Meditation circles.Tarot decks on the kitchen table.She used to drag me to yoga class on Saturdays, where we’d sit cross-legged and breathe while I tried not to roll my eyes.
After she started slipping away, I longed to have those Saturday morning yoga classes again.
So instead of insisting this wouldn’t make a world of difference, I did as she asked and closed my eyes.
“What are you feeling?”she asked.
“I’m feeling like I’d rather have my eyes open.”
She playfully swatted my arm.“Focus.Think about the time you’ve spent with Henry.What color do you see?”
“Color?”I arched a brow.“All I see is black.Because my eyes are closed.”
“Take a deep breath.Inhale for three, exhale for four.”Her voice turned calm and rhythmic.“Push out all the negativity that’s been festering, blocking your inner eye.”
For once, I didn’t tell her there was no such thing, inhaling for three before pushing out a long exhale.
It reminded me of that first night in the cabin.The panic that had consumed me, threatening to suffocate me.
But then Henry’s voice had broken through the chaos, low and steady, his touch grounding me when I thought I’d never breathe again.
