Her hands close on my arms, like she’s anchoring herself to me. “You came back.” The words break on a sob, emotion unraveling the rigid calm she usually wears like armor. “My baby. You came home.”
The control I spent my adult life cultivating instantly crumbles.
A wave of love washes away nine years of anger and bitterness, nearly knocking me over.
This isn’t forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe never.
But for now, with her arms around me, the past fades like mist in the morning.
Mom.
Part of me has needed this, been starving for it, since the day I left. No, before that.
I lean into her, breathing in her perfume. Soft vanilla and musk. A scent that still feels like home.
With her arms encircling me, I’m ten again. Safe for just a second, before things got complicated and every hug became a lesson.
“I missed you.” Her silk-clad shoulder muffles my voice. “I missed you so much.”
She pulls back, cradles my face in her hands, and searches every inch of me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she blinks. “I searched for you.” Barely more than a whisper.
Guilt drops like lead to the pit of my stomach. “I didn’t want to be found, Mom. I went by Jordan Bennett. I needed space…and time.”
“I’m so sorry you felt that way.” Her lip trembles. “Every time the phone rang, I… I kept your room just how you left it. Then about a year ago, I stumbled upon your podcast. I’ve watched every episode.”
That undoes me.
Tears burn my eyes and trickle down my cheeks. I never let myself picture her hoping, waiting, or listening to her wayward daughter’s podcast.
I always thought she’d moved on, glad to be rid of the messy kid who wouldn’t fit.
The same way she did with Dad.
“I’m sorry.” Though I don’t know if I mean for leaving or for coming back. Or for being the wrong shape in her high-society world.
She shakes her head. “You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”
Then she glances past me. Her eyes land on Kirill. The motherly warmth drains away, replaced by something sharper and more calculating. Just like I knew she would, she recognizes him for what he is.
She sees the violent predator beneath the suit, coiled and ready.
“Darling, are you all right?”
She can spot a shark at the door.
And just like that, our rehearsed plan falls apart.
No more distractions or social games. My two worlds crash together.
The desperate, dangerous one I’ve lived in since Kirill materialized in my apartment and the universe of chandeliers and secrets I fled.
The lines between them are blurred, but that’s okay.
Because this is the mom I knew as a child, before money and paranoia warped her mind. The one who would ask how I’m doing instead of explaining how I’m doing things wrong. A mother who would look me in the eyes rather than at my hair, nails, or attire. Who loved me more than anything else.
Forgotten, but maybe not lost.
I squeeze her hand and drop the act. “I’m okay, Mom. But I need to get to Dad’s safe. Now. Tonight. We’re in trouble.”
