I’d built such a thick wall around my lingering hurt, just to keep myself from even acknowledging what had happened with her. Now that I had finally spoken with Shelly, I realized something—waiting that long had only dragged it out emotionally for me.
Impulsively, I called my mom.
“Hey, hey,” she answered.
“I did it,” I said by way of greeting.
I didn’t have to explain further. My mom knew exactly what I was talking about. “Good for you. How do you feel?”
I paused, tilting my head to the side. “Better. I really do, and I kind of can’t believe it.”
I could hear the understanding in her voice as she replied, “I can believe it. I completely understand why it took you a while to get to the point where you were ready to hear her out. It isn’t so much about giving her what she wants. It’s about just letting yourself face it.”
“I feel like I’ve been facing it ever since it all blew up,” I pointed out.
“Oh, you have. But with her coming back like this and wanting something from you—and me and others—it was something you had to face. A different layer, I guess. How do you feel?” she repeated.
“Relieved, and sort of at peace.” I paused and did a quick internal scan of myself. “I’m never going to be happy about what happened. For obvious reasons.” My mother’s laugh was dry. “But I feel okay. I feel like I can do what you suggested, which is to let it go. I know that I need to. Have you heard from Michelle?”
“I haven’t.” My mother’s sigh filtered through the line. “I don’t feel like it’s my place to reach out to her. She was caught in the crossfire, too. If she ever reaches out to me, obviously, I’ll talk to her.”
“It sounds like things aren’t great with her and Shelly,” I said.
My mother was quiet for a beat. “It is what it is.”
“It is,” I said emphatically. “Thanks, Mom.”
“For what?”
“For telling me it was worth having that conversation. Now I don’t feel like I’m going to be angry every time I see her, and I needed that.”
“Good. How’s everything else?”
I paused, thinking about Kincaid and that twist in my heart whenever I did. That ache of missing him when he was away.
“They’re good. I’ve, um, I’ve started seeing Kincaid.”
“I know.” My mother’s tone was amused.
“What do you mean, you know?”
She outright laughed. “Exactly that. Of course I know. How big do you think this town is? Word travels. I’m happy for you. Janet tells me he’s a good man.”
“I think he is.” I chewed on the side of my cheek, trying to ignore the anxiety that started to spin in my chest. “Mom?”
“Right here, hon.”
“I don’t know how to trust anybody.” My eyes stung with the tears that wicked up from my throat suddenly.
The silence that followed felt heavy and loaded with so much. I could hear my mother take a breath and let it out in a gust. “I know,” was all she said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kincaid
A few days earlier
I’d kind of blocked out that I was about to speak to my father for the first time in my life. I mostly agreed to talk to him because I knew how much my mom wanted me to.
