“Grandma asked me to,” she murmurs, not meeting his eyes.
I glance at my mother—her chin lifted in that familiar, stubborn way that always makes me feel twelve again. But I don’t lower my head. I let my eyes speak for me, let them show just how hurt and disappointed I am by her interference.
“I—I brought your present,” Colin stammers. “I think you’ll like it. It’s inside, under the tree. I can get it for yo—”
“You can leave it there,” Alicia interrupts. “I’ll see it later.”
She then turns to my mother. “Can I go now? I saw him. I said hi.”
I close my eyes, pressing a hand against my stomach, as if that might be enough to keep the pain contained.
“You can go, princess,” Colin says, his voice controlled but barely holding together. “Thank you for coming down.”
She turns and goes back inside with hurried steps, before any of us can say another word.
“I know you meant well, Ellen,” Colin says, in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “But don’teverdo that again.”
“She’s a child, Colin,” my mother replies evenly. “There’s so much she doesn’t understand—”
“And I’m respecting that,” he cuts in. “You should too. She’s your granddaughter.”
My mother presses her lips together, nods once, and walks back inside.
The tension that follows is suffocating.
“She called mehe,” Colin says, his voice breaking. “Not Daddy. Not even Dad. Just…he.”
My gaze drifts to the spot where Alicia stood just minutes ago. I close my eyes, and I can still hear her voice—Daddy!—echoing through the house every time he came home.
Colin leaves not long after, saying he’s staying at a small inn nearby, the only place he could find available at the last minute.
When I go back inside, Mom is standing by the fireplace, arms crossed, her eyes heavy with unspoken judgment.
“I shouldn’t have had to talk to Alicia and convince her, Cecily,” she says, her tone edged with frustration. “Colin is her father.”
I take a slow breath, grounding myself. “Yes, he is. And I was there too, remember? I’m the other half that brought her into this world.”
I meet her gaze. “And you’re right—you shouldn’t have forced Alicia. You should have trusted me to handle my own daughter.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I shake my head.
“You’re her grandmother,” I say evenly, “butI’mher mother. And if I’m not pressuring my children, if I’m respecting their limits and their feelings, the least you can do is the same.”
My voice stays calm, but firm. “Don’t ever do something like this again, Mom. Or you won’t just lose Alicia’s trust and respect… you’ll lose mine too.”
“Sometimes I think you don’t understand, Cecily.”
“Don’t understand what?” My voice trembles, but I don’t back down. “That my children are hurting because of hischoices? That their world fell apart because of decisions I didn’t make?”
I lower my head, exhausted. “I’m glad you’ll never have to go through this, Mom. You were lucky to marry a man like Dad. A man who respects the vows he made. Who always chose you.
I lift my eyes to hers. “But please, don’t tell me or my children how we should feel.”
She pales and doesn’t say a word.
I hate that it’s come to this—that we’re standing on opposite sides, and that it’s so hard for her to step into my shoes and truly understand what this feels like.
But maybe now, she finally will.
