Page 106 of Scars and Crowns

Her voice grows smaller. "So when you came back . . . " She laughs quietly through the tears. " . . . I was selfishly happy."

"So unbelievably happy. Because I thought . . . " She looks down at her hands. " . . . finally. My son gets his home back." I blink hard against the sting behind my own eyes.

"Amma Saheba . . . " She lifts one hand gently.

"Let me finish." I nod. "I've tried to be better."

"I truly have."

"I ask about his day now."

"I notice when he's tired."

"I've learned to knock before walking into his study."

She smiles faintly. "I even make him leave work for dinner." A pause. "But . . . " Her shoulders sink. "Some mistakes arrive too late for apologies."

"I know I cannot give him back the childhood he should have had."

"I know I cannot undo years of absence simply because I finally understood what I was missing." Her voice breaks. "And he'll never tell me."

"He'll never say I failed him. That's not who he is. He would rather carry the hurt himself than let me carry the guilt." She wipes quickly at her cheek. "But a mother knows.”

“I know." Silence stretches between us. Then she reaches across the blanket and covers my hand with hers.

"So . . . " Another small smile. "Thank you. For loving my son when I wasn't loving him the way he needed." My own eyes finally overflow.

I reach for her hand without thinking. "I never thought of it that way." My voice comes out softer than I expect. "I wasn't taking care of him. He was just . . . " I smile through the tears. " . . . my best friend."

"The only person who ever made this enormous palace feel small enough to belong in."

"I never stayed beside him because someone asked me to."

"I stayed because that's where I wanted to be."

She squeezes my hand. We sit like that for a while. Two women. Different generations. Both carrying years of guilt. Both loving the same stubborn, quiet man more than either of us has probably ever managed to tell him. A little while later she laughs unexpectedly. "When I first met Sara . . . " I look at her. " . . . I nearly dropped my teacup."

I smile. "She is you. So completely you. The same chin. The same stubborn little expression whenever she's decided something. The same eyes."

She laughs again. "And then, one afternoon . . . she marched into my sitting room. Closed the door."

I already know this is going somewhere dangerous. "What did she do?"

"Oh." Amma Saheba grins outright. "She informed me she required my assistance."

"With?"

"Getting you and Yuvaan together."

I stare at her. " . . . She what?"

"There was a plan. A very detailed one." She chuckles, “Quite impressive, honestly. She'd clearly been thinking about it for days."

I bury my face in my hands. "I cannot believe this child."

"Oh, I can." Amma Saheba laughs warmly. "She inherited determination from both of you." She grows quiet again. "My son deserves happiness." The smile remains, but something deeper settles behind it. "I've watched him carry loneliness for far too many years."

"I couldn't stand by and watch him do it for the rest of his life." I lean forward without another word and wrap my arms around her. She hugs me back immediately.