Riley throws the truck in park, and I know he’s turned to face me, but I’m unable to break my stare out the window. Matty’s out there, somewhere, more than likely perched on the private outcropping of boulders some fifteen feet below the lookout, and he’s in distress. My heart aches at the thought, and at the sobering realization that for once, I—as his mother—may not be able to help him. Not only that, but I’m actually thecauseof his current troubles.
Riley sighs, long and low, and a distant part of my brain recognizes he’s exiting the truck and coming around to my side. The passenger door opens, and warm calloused hands caress my face. His rough thumb strokes my cheek, then brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ears on both sides. He frames my face with his hands, gently forcing me to look at him. Pale grey eyes reflect my own concern back at me, but there’s reassurance there, too, and so much love.
“You’ve got this,” he whispers, his face close to mine and his breath ghosting over my lips.
I stare back at him, accepting the strength he offers me, and nod silently. For some reason, my gaze drops to the strong column of his throat, covered in a day’s worth of stubble. Of course,he wouldn’t have had time, in his panic this morning, to shave there nor to trim his beard. His pulse thrums visibly, betraying his nerves and keeping pace with my own still-frantically beating heart. We may have found our boy, and I’m relieved to know he’s safe, but we’re not out of the woods yet.
Riley’s hands drop from my face. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and shoots off a quick text, likely letting Aidan know we’ve found Matt. He shoves it back in his pocket, and reaches across me to unbuckle my seatbelt. He helps me out of the vehicle and, linking our fingers together, guides me over to the edge of the lot where the gap in the guardrail leads down a steep and rocky trail to our granite outcropping. We pause there, and I take a moment to collect myself, straightening my shoulders and inhaling a deep, fortifying breath.
“I’ve got this,” I repeat his earlier encouragement, but he shakes his head.
“We’vegot this,” he corrects, squeezing my hand in his. “That’s what I should have said before. Because I’m right here with you, Sunshine, no matter what. Andwe’vegot this.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding before peering up at his determined face. “I love you, you know.”
It’s the first time I’ve said it since we were teenagers, but I’ve known it for a while now. I’ve felt it, too, from him, with all his acts of service. He’s been showing me for months how much he loves me.
His features soften. “I know. And I love you too,” he says, giving my hand another squeeze, then leading me down the worn path through the trees.
Matt is standing when we round the boulder’s edge, likely having been alerted to our presence by the skittering gravel as we navigated the uneven terrain.
My son studies me with stormy eyes, a muscle ticking in his sharp jaw, and I can’t help wondering when it got that way. When did his face lose the last softness of youth? He’s nearly a man, and I don’t know how or when it happened.
What I do know is he deserves to be treated like an adult when he hears the truth from me.
Matt begins to pace, agitated, while Riley and I watch. His fists are clenched, while I wring my own hands, struggling to find the words, where to start. How to make thisright.
It’s a long, tense moment before Riley clears his throat, correctly deducing that neither Matt nor I are able to verbalize what we’re feeling right now.
“Matt—” he starts, but is instantly cut off by our son when he points an angry finger at Riley and snaps, “Not you. I don’t want to hear from you right now. This is between me andher.” His mouth twists on that last word, and he gestures bitterly in my direction.
I let out a sob, unable to contain my despair at the vitriol in his voice, the look of disgust on his face. It’s like knives jabbing into my heart. Riley moves in close behind me, pressing his chestto my back and wrapping steadying hands around my waist, once again offering me strength through our connection and the proximity of his body. I breathe in the scent of him, letting it soothe and ground me.
“I understand,” Riley continues, “but don’t speak to your mother that way.”
Matt stops his pacing, placing his hands on his hips. “I. Said.NOT. YOU!” he shouts, then immediately drops his hands as his shoulders slump. He lets out a deep sigh, some of the fury seeping out of him, and shakes his head. “Don’t bother trying to deny it.” He meets my eyes finally, betrayal glimmering wetly in his gaze. “I heard her with her friends.”
Riley swallows thickly, braving Matt’s wrath once more when he says, “Then you know how much she’s struggled with this. With how to tell you … and … when. You must also know I’ve been dying to get to know you, but she’s been hesitant, foryoursake. To protectyou. She was worried I wouldn’t stick around, and for good reason, given my track record …” he trails off, but Matty shakes his head once more.
“What Iknowis that my entire life is a lie.”
“No,” I breathe, finally finding my voice. “No, baby.”
Riley lets his hands fall away as I take a step towards our son, but he remains close, offering me his silent support.
“Don’t come near me,” Matt warns, halting me in my path. A pained whimper falls from my lips as fresh tears spill over.
“You were just a kid,” I struggle to explain. “Icouldn’ttell you something like that. And then, when everything happened with your father …” I pause to swallow the lump in my throat. “When he left … and I couldn’t tell you then—”
He mouths the word ‘father’ then lets out a disgusted snort.
“Sam,” I correct myself softly.
“Sam,” he repeats, bitterly, diverting his gaze and staring out at the view. I doubt he’s seeing any of it. “It’s why he left, isn’t it? Everything makes so much sense now. Why he … changed. Why he pulled away from me. Why he was different with Alex.” He turns back, pinning me with his stare. “He found out, didn’t he?”
I hesitate, then nod. “He never said anything to me, but I could tell when he—” my voice cracks, “figured it out.
Matt nods repeatedly. “So … fine. He left, and I was a kid. But I haven’t been one for a while. You’ve had plenty of chances to come clean with me since then. Do you know how often I’ve wondered what I did wrong? How I drove him away? I blamed myself, Mom, I—”