My brows draw together. Tiernan’s mom offered to help mine? “How?”
“She’s taking me to rehab. She said it’s a good place, discreet. They’ll help me learn to be better.”
“We can’t afford that,” I tell her, but the truth is, I know we don’t have to. If I needed it, Rory would make it happen, and I both hate that he would have to do that for me and am so fucking grateful that he would.
“She’ll pay for it, and then I’ll work with her to help pay her back.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom…” I want this. God, I want it so fucking much, but what if she betrays them? What if she walks away? What if she lets us down?
“I won’t mess this up.” When she wipes at my face now, I realize a tear leaked free. “You have no reason to believe me, but I won’t fuck up, Shai. I’ll be the mom you deserve.”
“I love you the way you are.”
“I know, sweetheart. That’s what makes you so special. And soon I’ll deserve that love.” She fingers my hair again, playing with the strands. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Why?” I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything in my life for her to be proud of.
“Because of the person you are, how big you love. You would do anything for anyone you love, and now you’ve found someone who will do the same for you.”
Despite the heaviness of the moment, I smile. Thinking of Rory always makes me smile. “He’s everything to me.”
Mom scoots over, wincing in pain, then pats the mattress beside her. I climb into bed with her, the way I used to do as akid, curling into her. “Tell me about them. Oh, and how’s Ollie doing? He’s a doll.”
We lie there together, Mom listening to me while I share my family with her, the family that is now hers too. I tell her about Cillian playing the piano and me playing guitar with him. About evenings spent laughing with Ollie, tutoring me and painting my nails. About Dean and Tiernan, how they’re harder to nail down, keep more to themselves, but show their love and care in their own ways and are always, always there when it matters.
She listens to every word, asks questions, involves herself, making this moment about me, when in the past it’s almost always been about her.
I have no idea how much time passes before there’s a soft knock at the door, Rory peeking inside. “I brought you food. We worked up an appetite last night.”
I roll my eyes. He has no shame. We’re in front of my mom, and he’s got to hint about sex. But then, she has no shame either, so I guess it fits.
“I’m sure you had more fun than me.”
“Mom. I’m your son. Can you not?” But it doesn’t really bother me.
Rory grins. “I mean, you got to stab that motherfucker like eighty-seven times, so I think you had fun too.”
“Jesus Christ.” I groan.
He sets a plate on the table, then walks over to the bed. “You put him in danger,” he tells my mom.
“Rory,” I warn, but he ignores me.
“Yes,” Mom replies.
“It won’t happen again.”
“No. It won’t.”
Rory gives her a nod. “Thank you for saving him. I would be lost without him.”
Mom reaches over, takes Rory’s hand, and gives it a squeeze. “I promise I’ll take better care of him from now on.”
“Me too,” Rory answers. “You as well.”
