“He apologized, for one.”
“What did he have to apologize for?”
I shoot her a look. I know she’s curious, but damn I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her.
“Fine,” she says, drawing out the word and giving me a look that shows how pleased she is to be turning the table and using that word on me.
“He has tattoos,” I tell her, hoping this tidbit will be enough to quench her thirst for answers.
“I’ve seen them,” she answers.
“Did you know one of them is for me?”
“The tree?”
I nod.
“I noticed it, but I never asked. I figured it was for you, with the fall colors and the leaves falling off the branches. If his ink was a poem, it would be titledAutumn Leftor something dramatic like that.” She barely manages to conceal a smile. “Or maybe it would be calledAutumn Right.”
"You're full of jokes, huh?" This new Faith Cummings is weird to me, but I like it.
She shrugs. "I'm always good for a dad joke."
She had to be my mom and dad, so that makes sense.
We get a little further on the trail and Mom stops to take a drink. "Did he touch you?" she asks, her water bottle poised at her mouth.
My eyes bulge.Did he touch you?isn’t exactly something you want to hear come out of your mother’s mouth.
"Yesterday?" I ask, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
She scrunches her eyes as she drinks. "When else?" she asks after she swallows.
Oh, gee, I don't know, maybe when we hid in the shadows beside his dad’s house and he put his hands in my pants like we were teenagers again…
My cheeks get hot, and it has nothing to do with the sun beating down on us.
"He hugged me yesterday. I was upset. From talking about it all, you know?"
"No,” she snaps. “I do not know. Because you have yet to trust me enough to tell me.”
Whoa.
My heart falls at her bold share session. My mom and I don’t usually go this deep. It’s work and bills and her health, but she doesn’t really dig into me like this.
I stop and sigh, and my Mom stops too. She's about a foot away from me, and even though she's wearing a hat, she lifts her hand to the brim, giving herself just a few more inches of shade. “Honey, I’m your mother. You can tell me anything."
I suddenly feel like I’m carrying a thousand-pound weight and it’s crushing me. Honestly, I'm sick of keeping the secret. Sick of being the only person who knows, of clinging to my choice and letting it define how I see myself. I've toiled over it for so long it feels like a part of me, but I feel better after talking to Owen and Livvie. Maybe I'll feel better if I tell my mom what really broke me and Owen. Maybe, if I start chipping away at the pieces of my secret, it won't be so heavy inside me anymore.
"Would you really like to know what happened between me and Owen, Mom? Even if it makes you look at me differently?"
She frowns. "Did you cheat on him?"
"No." I swallow hard, preparing myself to tell my mother my darkest secret.
"Did you fall in love with someone else while you were with him?"
"Isn't that cheating?"
