Page 59 of The Wrong Side Of Us

I choked up. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel anything other than his tender words that like some type of super glue were able to keep me from falling apart.

Derek pulled back, cupping my face in his hands for just a moment. He smiled, wiping away the tears that escaped. He looked behind us, chuckling softly and then returning his green eyes to mine. “I’m going to leave now, because your boyfriend looks like he’s going to beat the shit out of me, but let’s stay in contact, yeah?”

I wanted to speak up, but the onslaught of emotions wouldn’t let me. Somehow, he understood.

“It’s okay.” He nodded. “Take care. Take care of that baby.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as he kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you around, Evelyn.”

***

We flew back to New York that same night. Nathan was eerily quiet, pretending to read something, though I knew his mind was elsewhere.

The words Hannah spoke divided both my heart and mind. They paid a small homage to my mother yet managed to soothe me. She didn’t have to touch me or speak directly to me; her words had been comforting.

Derek was a mystery, though. I couldn’t explain why or how his hold made me feel better despite the circumstances.

When we landed in New York, we took a cab to my condo, but something told me that I didn’t need to go home; I needed to be somewhere else. It was late, however, and I wasn’t sure how well received we would be.

“Nathan?” I asked quietly. He turned to me, his gray eyes concerned in the dark of the night.

“Yeah?”

“Can we go to your parents’ house?”

He frowned but didn’t ask any questions. After telling the cab driver the new address to where we were heading, he hesitantly took my hand in his and held it the rest of the way.

***

“Sorry for the late visit,” was my greeting to Nathan’s parents.

Nathan carried our luggage inside, hardly even bothering to say anything. I didn’t blame him; it had been a long day for the both of us. Both his parents sensed the tension between us, however, stealing questioning glances from each other every time they could.

“Take a seat,” Deborah said, placing her hand over my arm. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Just water,” I replied.

Nathan shook his head in disapproval. “Give her toast or something too. She hasn’t eaten.”

“I’m really not hungry.”

Nathan pressed his lips together, going into the kitchen as he ran his hands through his hair. The situation frustrated him.

I placed my face in my hands, sighing. A hand ran down my back soothingly, trying to ease whatever anxiety rushed through my veins. Instead, everything burst through to the surface. I sobbed into my hands, and soon, Deborah pulled me into her arms.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, honey, let it at all out…you’re okay.”

It was then that I realized this was why I needed to be there.

Deborah showed me more love than my mom had in a lifetime; she’d taken me in without hesitation since she met me.

I heard footsteps approaching, and I knew Nathan was watching, but the control over my emotions dissolved. It wasn’t necessary for me to raise my face. I could hear Frank telling Nathan to give me some space.

It felt like I cried for a whole lifetime.

Maybe I did.

I cried for the life I didn’t have with my mom, for the pain I’d endured. It was okay, though, because I cried in the arms of an exemplary mother, a woman who had given everything for her son.

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