She pulled me into her chest, firm and unyielding, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of my head. I broke, again. The sound that came out of me was small and wrecked.
“I’m sorry,” I said into her sweater. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands still holding my face.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was absolute. “Why would you apologize for that scumbag’s mistake?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fresh tears spilling over. “You were right,” I said. “You and everyone else told me not to be with him. I’m so stupid.”
Her expression softened instantly. She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “You are not stupid. You did a stupid thing.” She teased trying to lighten the moment, brushing my hair back from my face with practiced ease. “There’s a difference. People do stupid things when they’re in love.”
I looked at her, my vision blurring. She gave me a small, knowing smile.
“You’re young,” she said. “Your twenties are for mistakes. Trust me, I made plenty.”
I knew she meant my runaway father. Her biggest mistake.
She hugged me again, then guided me toward the sofa, firm hands steering me like she’d done when I was a kid with a skinned knee. Over my shoulder, she said to Jenny, “Water. Please.”
She sat beside me and pulled me in, my head resting against her shoulder. Her fingers moved through my hair slowly and rhythmically.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she said. “I’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to think about anything right now.”
I believed her. That was my mom, always reliable.
“All you’re going to do tonight,” she continued, “is watch horror movies and eat ice cream.”
Jenny came back with the glass of water. My mom thanked her, then nodded toward the hallway. They left the room together, voices low, giving me privacy.
The television played a movie. I stared at the screen and couldn’t tell you what happened in it. My chest hurt so badly it felt physical, like something had been torn out and left an open space behind. Every breath scraped. Every memory of him came sharp and unwanted.
I sat there, wrapped in a blanket that still smelled like my childhood, listening to familiar sounds in a familiar house, and wondered how something that wasn’t visible could hurt this much.
I didn’t cry loudly anymore.
I just lay there, broken, trying to survive the first night without him.
???
By nightfall, he hadn’t called. No begging. No apology. Not from Ethan. He never admitted when he was wrong; he was too cool for tears or emotion. The fact that I didn’t matter enough to even warrant an apology made it painfully clear how little he cared about me.
I didn’t see him again, not for eight years.
Not until the morning my phone rang with the news of Jenny and Matt’s accident.
Chapter 1
PRESENT DAY
Claire
It was my birthday, and I spent it at the cemetery.
The sky was pale and overcast, not threatening rain but not generous with light either. The air smelled like damp earth and cut grass. I parked farther down the gravel path than usual and walked the rest, the sound of my shoes soft against the ground.
I brought her favorite flowers. Yellow lilies. I knelt and laid them carefully against the stone, brushing dirt from the base with my sleeve like she could see me being neat about it.
