I hover at the edge of the porch steps.She’s dressed in a faded shirt and a cardigan that hangs off her shoulder.Her hair is piled into a messy knot on the top of her head.There’s a coffee stain on her shirt, but she doesn’t look as tired as she did the last time I saw her.
‘Come in,’ she says, gesturing to the door and taking a step back.
I walk inside and pause, taking in how much has changed.The place is unrecognisable.It has a more cluttered, homey feel to it now.It didn’t need any changing, but I suppose Mum wanted a fresh start after everything.
‘Can I get you anything?Tea, coffee?’she asks, and it’s weird to be treated like a guest, instead of her son.
‘Coffee, thanks.’
‘Almond milk okay?’she asks.
I shrug.‘That’s fine.’
She hurries around the kitchen and I continue staring around the room.Not one single thing has remained the same.It’s eerie.Like my childhood has been taken away from me.Not that we lived here for that long, but it still feels like something is missing.I do feel like I can breathe easier with the knowledge that my stepfather isn’t creeping around the place.
Collapsing onto the lounge, I drum my fingers on my thighs.
She returns after a minute, placing the coffee down on the small table beside me.
‘Cheers.’
She sits across from me, folding one leg over the other.She has lines that follow her pinched mouth as her eyes dart over me, taking in just how many more tattoos I’ve gotten since I’ve moved out.It must be killing her not to make a comment about them, since she did last time and it didn’t go over so well.
‘I didn’t expect to see you today,’ she says after a heavy silence.
She sits stiffly in her seat.I hate that our relationship has become like this.I never expected it to become so fractured, but the entire situation was out of my control.Anger flashes through me each time I look at her, but instead of seeing an enemy, I see another victim, and I’ve never seen her in that light before.She may not be short, but her presence just seems … small.I owe it to her to hear what she has to say.
‘I should have called.’
I don’t admit that I didn’t want to give her the heads up in case I woke up this morning and bailed on the idea.I honestly considered pulling out of the whole thing, but I know that wouldn’t help anything.
‘It’s fine,’ she says quickly.‘You know you’re always welcome here.’
My jaw clenches.Lowering my gaze, I stare down at my cup, my anger simmering just below the surface of my consciousness.I didn’t come here for a fight, or to release the anger I feel licking at my skin, but I can’t help being triggered when I’m around her.She let me down, and I certainly didnotfeel welcome to be around her or this family after that.
‘I’m sorry, Zay,’ she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.Sincerity is etched across her face as she stares at me, pleading.‘I’m so sorry about how it all happened and my behaviour towards you.I did not feel safe enough to stand up for you and do the right thing.I wasn’t strong enough and I’m sorry.’
Something lodges in my throat and I stare hard at the coffee in my hand, trying to keep it together.
‘Why didn’t you believe me?’I ask, jaw so tight, my words come out strained.
‘I do believe you.’
My eyes snap to hers.My fingers shake slightly, causing a bit of liquid to slosh over the side of the cup, but neither of us makes a move to do anything about it.My heart rate picks up, and I focus on breathing evenly as I stare into those painfully familiar eyes.
‘He did things to you, too,’ I state, not needing it to be a question.
The look in her eyes is all the confirmation I need, but she hesitantly nods.
‘Yes.He did.’She inhales shakily.‘He hurt me and threatened me.He controlled my finances and emotionally manipulated me constantly.He was a charming, wonderful man until we married, and then everything went downhill after that.I was in love.Naive.Let him have control over things I shouldn’t have.I was not in a position to help you when you needed me the most.I will never forgive myself for that.’
Placing the mug down, I press my elbows into my thighs as I bury my face into my hands, processing this information.I had been so self-absorbed in thinking about what she did to me, I never paused to think or understand why she might have done it.
‘We would have supported you.You had options.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ she says, looking pained.‘I don’t expect you to ever understand, but it truly was not that simple.’
I’m not sure what to say, because I know what she means.I don’t understand.I can’t begin to put myself in her shoes.I’d like to think I’d never do what she did, but I don’t know everything.
