“Mom?” The word came out tired and weary.
I had tried so hard to build a relationship with her, and when that hadn’t seemed to work, I’d convinced myself over and over to give up the idea of having a relationship with her at all. I’d convinced myself that I no longer cared what she thought, that I was my own person.
But no matter how many times I convinced myself—or my therapist—it never really mattered. She was still my mother, and I still cared.
“Simon has always had his flaws,” my mother said gently. “You know that better than anyone. I could see it, your father could see it, everyone could see it.”
“If you could see it so clearly, then why were you so adamant I marry him?”
My mother gave a long, heavy sigh. “You’ve got to keep in mind, darling, life isn’t exactly simple. Not all of us are as strong as you.”
“Strong as me?” I gave a throaty laugh. “You never thought I was strong. If you’d thought I was strong, you would’ve let me do things on my own. Youneverlet me do anything on my own. I couldn’t even have friends over without you running background checks on them and their parents. You would ask me what kind of car their parents drove so it wouldn’t embarrass you when they pulled up in front of our house.”
“I understand,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry. What I’m trying to say is that I was taught to act a certain way too. I wasn’t as strong as you, as willing to bend the rules of the society I lived in. We had a comfortable life with your father. Yes, my relationship with your father hasn’t always been based on love—”
I gave a soft huff of laughter. “Oh, really?”
“But it was very convenient and mostly amiable,” she said. “My marriage to him gave me safety. It gave me security. It gave me you, and I could never regret that.”
I swallowed hard. I would’ve loved to have heard my mother say these words ten years ago. Maybe I would’ve believed her even a few months ago. Now, even though my heart was thudding and my palms were sweating, I was skeptical.
I reached out to see if she, too, was a mirage. But when my hand touched her, she was solid.
“I love you, honey.” My mother reached up and stroked her thumb down my cheek.
It felt so real that my skin tingled beneath her touch. I pressed my hand to my cheek after she dropped hers, wondering where this sentiment had been my whole life. Had it taken losing me to realize what we could’ve had? A real relationship between mother and daughter?
“No,” I said aloud, sounding argumentative, if only to myself. “You’re not real. I don’t know what this is, but you are not real.”
She looked offended. “Of course I’m real. A man named Seer Goddard visited me and explained everything. He said you needed help. If my daughter needs help, I’m going to see to it that she gets it.”
I blinked. The way she said Seer Goddard’s name jolted something in me. Like they were familiar. Like maybe he had visited her and explained everything.
“Seer Goddard explained everything,” she repeated. “I finally understand, and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner. I always knew you were special. I just didn’t have the strength to stand up to your father. He had ideas of who he wanted you to become, and I went along with them.”
It sounded plausible. My mother had never worked a day in her life. She’d gone straight from college into a high-profile marriage where she’d mostly been known as a Mrs.
Had she ever really had the power to do what she wanted? Had anyone ever asked her aboutherdreams and aspirations, or was she merely the woman behind my father? And if she didn’t obey his wishes, then what? She had no security net. No job experience. If he left her, what then? Was it really impossible to believe what she’d said was true?
“But you could’ve loved me, even back then,” I said softly. “You could’ve shown a little kindness, a little understanding.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I regret it. Deeply. I never gave us the opportunity to be close, and I apologize for that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t. “What do you want from me? I’m not going back to New York. My life is here now.”
“I understand,” she said tiredly. “But I want you to know there’s a place for you at home. With me. If you need me, I’m there.”
“What about Dad?” I asked. “How is anything going to change? It’s still his house, his rules. I know how this works.”
“If you’ll come back and be with me, that’s all I need. I’ll leave him.”
I stared. My mom would never leave my father.
“You have to choose,” my mother pleaded. “You can’t be in two places at once. You can’t be the powerful Fae Queen vanquishing evil on a magical island and also my daughter in New York.”
“I’ve already made my choice,” I said, though my voice was shakier than I wanted to admit. There was a tremble of doubt. But I repeated, “I’ve made my choice. I’ve got to move on.”
“You only get one mother. If you stay here, you’re abandoning me. You’re abandoning everything that we could be.”
