Page 59 of Silver Lining Love

“I’m going to take that as a no,” she said flatly before sipping her coffee.

There was no point in denying how I felt. I did love Whitney. I was in love with Whitney. But, no, I hadn’t told her how I felt. With everything going on, the last thing that she needed was to deal with my emotions.

“She has enough on her plate,” I explained.

My mom nodded. “You’re probably right.”

I sat there with my jaw hanging open in shock that she’d agreed with me. I’d have bet my life savings that she would have pointed out all the reasons that I was wrong. “I am?”

“Sure. I know that ifIwere a young woman who lost the most important person in the world to me, then became a mom overnight, thelast thingI’d want was the man who I’d been head over heels in love with for years, who was stable, hard-working, and who loved the kids and the kids loved, to tell me that he loved me and offer me a sense of security and safety.” She shook her head. “That would bewayyyytoo much to handle.”

“She had a crush. She hasn’t been in love with me for years,” I clarified.

“Sweetie, I don’t know why you’re trying to downplay it, but that woman upstairs is totally, completely in love with you. She might even love you more than Moose loves Goldie Hen.”

I knew that it was ridiculous but hearing my mom say that was reaffirming. I hadn’t really admitted it, even to myself, but the truth was, I wasn’t sure if Whitney really loved me. Or if I was just a safety net for her who she’d happened to be attracted to.

“And you love her too. You loved her even when you tried not to because she was too young.”

“I didn’t lov?—"

My mom lifted her hand to stop me from continuing. “Do you know how many times over the years Whitney’s name came up in our conversations?”

I remained silent as I tried to think back. Had I talked about her that much? I didn’t think so.

“From the day that girl moved in next door to you, you mentioned her at least once every single conversation we had,” she stated firmly.

My mom wasn’t usually prone to exaggeration, but apparently, this topic was an exception. I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, no?” Her brows raised.

“I know I talk about her a lot now, but that’s only because we spend so much time together,” I defended.

“I’m not talking about the past few months. I’m talking about the fact that I know that your trash day is Thursday, but she never remembers to set them out, so you do and bring them back up for her.” She lifted her hand and started counting things off on her fingers. “She’s had six boyfriends, none of which you liked. The latest was a guy named Jasper, who you described as a ‘prick’ and ‘douchebag.’

“She used to run at night, which you hated because it’s dark and she forgets to take her phone with her.

“She used to go stay with her sister one weekend a month, usually for three days, but sometimes she’d make it four.

“She used to order Doordash almost every night of the week and her favorite meal was from?—”

“I didn’t tell you all that,” I argued, cutting her off before she could continue.

At least, I didn’t remember telling her all of that. Maybe it was the same issue my dad had with patting my mom’s butt. I was doing it and completely unaware of it.

“Really?” She tilted her head to the side. “Then how do I know those things?” She paused for a moment, probably for dramatic effect, then continued, “It wasn’t like you talked about her all the time, but in every conversation, you mentioned something about her. I don’t even think you were conscious you were doing it.”

Obviously not.

“You love her, Wyatt. And you love the kids.” Her tone turned serious and I saw her bottom lip quiver. “Please don’t let my mistakes stop you from having the life you deserve.”

“What are you talking about? What mistakes?”

She inhaled through her nose and I noticed that there were tears in her eyes. I hated seeing my mom upset. The sight caused my stomach to twist in knots.

“Mom.” I reached out my hand and covered hers.

She sniffed back the emotion and shook her head.“When you were growing up, I should have seen that you needed more alone time. I should have made sure that you had a space that was quiet and that you could read uninterrupted. Remember when you wanted to keep a Do Not Disturb sign on your door, but I said no because it wasn’t fair to your brothers who had to share rooms? I should have let you have that. I should have?—"

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