I bite my lip, resisting the urge to push back. To list every way she’s wrong.
Because sheiswrong.
Hayes isn’t one of her deluded fantasies. He’s not some vanished myth, like her half-baked theories about ancient gods and secret worlds. Hayes is real.
What we have, however pathetically platonic, is grounded in something solid. A lifetime of shared moments. It isn’t make-believe or one of her fairytales. And it sure as hell isn’t tangled up in the strange make-believe mythology she’s built around my father.
One day soon, we’re going to have to have a serious talk about all this, but not today. Not when I’m barely holding it together.
“Please. Can I just have some space?” I press the still-burning sage bundle back into her hand and burrow under the covers.
“Sure, honey.” She nods, reaching across my nightstand to snuff out the sage in the little ceramic bowl I use for hair ties. “You know, I was afraid this would happen one day. You act so strong, but you never properly grieved your father. When we don’t heal those wounds, the pattern just repeats.” Her voice softens as she pats my shoulder. “Abandonment doesn’t go away. It just shape-shifts. Until you do the soul work, it’ll keep finding you. Different face, same pain.”
I press my lips together, blinking back fresh tears that threaten to overtake me.
“My only friend in the world is leaving the country. And he’s taking my dog, too,” I say. “So, please, forgive me for not being emotionally enlightened about it.”
She exhales, a long, theatrical sigh perfected through years of maternal disappointment.
“Bad things happen to all of us, Alysander,” she says. “If you can look back years from now and this turns out to be the worst pain you’ve ever felt, then you’ll be one of the lucky ones. Believe me.”
“Nice, Mom. You should write sympathy cards.”
I grab a cold slice of pizza from the grease-stained, dented box on my bed and take a savage bite, tearing the crust with my teeth. Mom eyes the pizza with a judgy look, but to her credit doesn’t say anything about it—for once.
“Well, if you don’t want my advice, don’t ask for it,” she says.
“I didn’t ask! You barged in!”
“Listen, honey.” Her tone remains maddeningly even. “I think this is an important life lesson. It’s time you understand that the only person you can truly count on is yourself.” She leans in again, smoothing back the baby hairs on my forehead. “Well… and your mother and sister, of course.”
“Men are trash. Got it,” I deadpan, giving her a sarcastic salute. I finish the slice of pizza and shove the empty box off my bed. One more bite of junk food and I’ll probably implode. “What about my dog? Am I allowed to be upset about Argy, or are dogs on your hit list too?” I snort. “I mean, heismale…”
She pauses, fixing me with a long, thoughtful look.
“Actually, dogs are worse,” she says. “Your father told me that’s how they tracked him here. It was the damn hellhounds. He said that’s why he had to leave.”
“Oh my God.” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Argy is not a hellhound, Mom.”
She shrugs, entirely unfazed, as if she has no idea how utterly insane she sounds.
“Well, you never really know these things, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Because hellhounds DO NOT EXIST,” I insist.
But for some reason, I picture Argy’s teeth flashing in the light that day in the woods—so savage I was almost afraid of my own dog for a moment.
“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” Mom climbs into bed beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and the creepy image of Argy vanishes as quickly as it came. Her head rests against mine, warm and steady. “I just hate seeing you like this. I know losing something you love hurts like hell. But little by little, the sharp edges soften. Eventually, you’ll get through it. And one day, you’ll wake up and barely notice the ache at all.”
I exhale, sinking into the quiet comfort of her embrace.
“You promise?”
“With all my heart.”
“I don’t know if I can live without him, Mom,” I whisper, the sadness threatening to drag me under.
She brushes her fingers through my hair and kisses the top of my head. “Take it from me, honey,” she says. “You never know how strong you are until you lose something you thought you couldn’t live without… and survive anyway. I did, and you will too. Sometimes the heart has to break to grow stronger.”
