Page 92 of Nocere

"Well, I cut up bodies for a living. What do you expect?" Ainsley's smile, as perky and delighted as ever, never wavered.

"Oh my God." I laughed so hard that my stomach ached. "Ainsley!"

"Everyone always shouts my name." She let out a happy sigh. "My job here is done."

"Dork." I shoved her shoulder and she snickered.

"It made you smile."

"Yeah. You usually do."

"Good. Now, no more deflecting. How are you really?" Her expression softened and she patted my hand.

"Okay. Rebecca said she'd get a representative to go to the parole hearing."

"Not in the mood to show up and tell her to go fuck herself?"

"Not very."

"How old would your mom be now?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Not sure. Probably mid-sixties." I shrugged.

"Imagine that. An old lady, gray-haired, sour. Sitting up there facing all the horrors she's responsible for over the past two decades." Ainsley clucked her tongue. "Knowing she could spend the rest of her waking life behind bars. Kind of satisfying if you ask me."

"Depends. Not if you don't have any remorse or whatever. You and I both know that there are more drugs in jail than anywhere else. She could've spent the last twenty years still shooting heroin, finding other young women in prison to pass off to fuel her addiction. She could've stayed just the same without knowing any pain." Pressure built behind my eyes as I fought the tears that my disclosure encouraged. "The only thing prison has done successfully is keep her away from me."

"Do you ever imagine her feeling pain or remorse for what she did to you, Rosie?" Ainsley's hand encased mine.

"No. Because even before she did what she did, she was never warm to me. Never kind. I was a burden to her always. She never wanted me. If it wasn't for my grandmother, I wouldn't have known kindness. If she hadn't died when I was eight and forced me back into my mother's care, I would've had a good life." I swiped at my eyes and Ainsley scooted closer to me.

"Do you feel like she ruined your life, Rosie?"

I shook my head, sniffling while I met her gaze. "She ruined a portion of my life. Rebecca gave me a better life when she took me in. You know what she did ruin though?"

Ainsley shook her head, her expression soft with the utmost care and tenderness. "I don't."

"My heart." I hiccupped when I said it. "She ruined my heart."

"Rosie…" Ainsley held her arms to me and I allowed myself to melt into her hug. "You have the kindest, most sensitive heart of anyone I've ever met. So many people love you." She rubbed my back and I held on to her arm while I absorbed her words. "And the way you love is so full and complete. There's nothing wrong with your heart."

"Yes, there is." I sniffled and dabbed at my nose with a tissue. "I love Samirah so much, but I know she could walk away from me at any minute. I love everyone too much and it could end at any time."

"There's no such thing as loving someone too much, sweetie." Ainsley pressed her index finger to the end of my nose and I swatted her hand. "No such thing at all."

"Well, I think there is."

"Well, you're wrong," Ainsley chirped in an indignant, yet playful way. "You can't over-love someone. It doesn't work like that."

"Maybe not, but it leaves me vulnerable. I try not to love anyone." I wiped my eyes and sighed. "I mean, I love the people already in my life, but adding new people…"

"Except Sami." Ainsley smiled. "You love her."

I nodded, holding my hands in my lap and gazing at the tissue in my palms.

"Have you told her?" she asked and I shook my head. "You should."

"What if she doesn't love me? I know she likes me and cares about me, but what if she doesn't love me?"

---