I just don’t know if I can trust her yet. I don’t know if she’s safe, if she’s stable, if she’s being honest. I don’t know how to undo years of damage with a few lunch trips.
And I feel really sick.
Drago is dressed for war.
My entire body feels stretched too thin.
“Mom,” I whisper, voice shaking, “it’s not that. It’s just a really bad day for me.”
“How bad can lunch be?” she presses gently, too gently. Like she already knows how to make me fold. Even as a kid, she had a way of convincing me to go places with her.
“We don’t even have to stay long. Half an hour. I’ll look after you.”
I swallow hard. “I-I can’t leave the house, Mom. I’m really too sick to even drive.” It’s a half lie. I can’t leave the house because there is a war.
She doesn’t know that safety has a very different meaning in my world now.
“I’m not alone,” I say. “I have people here.”
“I’m your mother,” she says, and her voice tightens like she’s about to cry. “I should be the one with you when you’re sick. Ishould be the one bringing you soup. Please let me make it all up to you.”
My throat burns.
She’s pushing and pushing and pushing, and it works, because even after everything… I still want her to be better. I still want her to be the mom I deserve.
I can feel Drago watching me, not interrupting but listening to every word. I swallow, heart thudding. “Let me… let me check something,” I whisper.
“Okay,” she says, voice instantly sweet again. “I’ll wait.”
I hit mute and stare at Drago. My voice comes out small, “She’s really pushing. What do I do?”
His eyes soften like he already knows how this feels. Like he understands guilt as a weapon. “I heard,” he murmurs.
I swallow hard. “I told her I’m sick and busy, but she’s saying she came all this way, she wants to be my mom again. She’s making me feel like… like if I don’t do this, I’m a bad person.”
His jaw flexes. He reaches out and cups my cheek, thumb brushing lightly under my eye. “You’re not a bad person,” he says quietly. “You’re a good girl.”
My chest aches at the softness in his voice.
I blink, tears burning again. “I don’t know what to do. I’d like to say goodbye to her, and hell, maybe even pretend she can act like my mom for a few hours when I’m sick.”
Drago’s gaze holds mine. “Could she just come here? Can she even get in?” I ask.
His jaw tenses, and I can hear his brain calculating. “She can come,” he says.
My eyes widen. “She can? How?”
“Yes,” he replies immediately, voice turning all command again. “But on my rules.”
“I’m worried about her,” I admit. “I’m worried about… today. It might be a good distraction. Although Dad might go crazy.”
Drago leans closer, his mouth brushing my forehead.
“Lev will let her in at the gates,” he says. “He’ll escort her to the house and escort her back out again. The whole perimeter is guarded. I’ll get the approval sorted. I just need her license plate. Our men will make sure it’s safe.”
I nod shakily. “And you? Are you safe?” I whisper.
His eyes darken. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”
