Page 247 of Tell Me Something True

“I was assigned her case,” Tabitha said, shivering despite the warm night air. She tugged her sleeves over her hands and crossed her arms. “I went to the hospital this morning to introduce myself, and there she was. My mother. Twenty years older but still broken down and beaten by a man in her life.”

The memory of her mom’s battered face filled her mind and Tabitha began to pace in front of her car, as if she could outrun that, too.

“You had no idea it was her when you got assigned her case?” Miles asked.

“When I was a kid, she went by Jennifer. Jennifer Michelle Ewings. So, no. I had no idea Jenny Ewings and Michelle Walsh were the same person until I was standing at the foot of her bed. She was in withdrawal from whatever she’s on now. She kept asking me to get her something for the pain.”

Stopping in front of him, she met his eyes, not wanting to hide this from him. Wanting him to see that she trusted him with her most vulnerable parts. With the most painful ones.

“She didn’t even recognize me,” she whispered around the lump of raw emotion in her throat, tears flowing once again. “She looked right through me. What kind of mother does that? What kind of mother doesn’t recognize their own child? And why, after all these years, after all her abuse and neglect, after all the trauma she put me through, is that the thing that hurts the most?”

He cursed quietly and pulled her into his arms. Held her while she sobbed, her hands clutching his uniform shirt, her tears soaking the fabric. She didn’t know how long they stood that way, him rocking them both slightly, his strength and compassion slowly soothing her, healing her pain, if even only just a little bit.

Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was left clinging to him, feeling washed out and wrung dry, her head aching, her throat burning. He pulled her in tighter, his hands now rubbing soothing circles over her back. Brushing the hair sticking to her damp cheeks away from her face.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

He was so good. So kind. Everything she’d ever dreamed of but never thought she’d have.

And she’d almost let him go.

That made her want to cry again.

Sliding her arms around his waist, she held on to him while the sun finished its descent. Crickets chirped noisily in the background, but she focused on the strong, steady beat of Miles’s heart under her ear. Breathed in his scent, musk and sandalwood and sweat.

She could have stayed there forever. And would have if a mosquito—more than likely attracted to her own sweaty scent and her shampoo—hadn’t landed on the back of her neck and bit her.

Slapping it away, she straightened. Kept her hand on the spot as she looked up at Miles. “For years after she left me in that hotel room, I wanted her to come back. I had this whole fantasy where she’d sweep into whatever foster home I was living in and take me away. That she’d only left me so she could get clean. So she could be a better mother.”

She dropped her hand, once again wrapping her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together. “I eventually realized she wasn’t ever coming back. But instead of accepting that as her choice, I told myself she was dead. I wanted her to be dead. That way I could pretend that she would have gotten clean, that she would have come for me, that she would have finally been the mother I deserved, she just hadn’t had the chance. And then I saw her in that hospital bed,” she continued, her voice going flat, “alive and the same woman, the same mother, she’d always been, that she didn’t even know her own daughter, and I realized…”

Her voice broke and she stopped. Drew in a shaky breath. “I realized she’d spent the past twenty years living her life like I’d never even existed. That she probably hadn’t thought of me once while I’d thought of her every day. That the things she did to me affected every aspect of my life. That I’d never be free of her.”

“You were in shock,” Miles said, stepping forward to settle his hands on her shoulders. Ducking his head, he held her gaze, expression kind. “Your first instinct was to run. To hide. Just like when you were a kid.”

She could let him think that. Could agree that was all it was.

But she was done lying.

“I wasn’t in shock. I saw everything clearly. Yes, my fight or flight instincts kicked in, but I chose flight. I chose to call out sick for the rest of the workday. I chose to pack as many of my things as I could in my car. I chose to ignore your texts and calls.”

“You were scared—”

“I was scared. I still am. But I was also pissed. I knew everything I’d worked so hard to achieve was about to crumble. But more than that, I was ashamed. The woman I thought I’d become was nothing more than an illusion. One more part I’ve been playing. I was a liar. Worse than that… I was just like my mother.”

“You’re not,” he said, his defense of her immediate. Sincere. “I know Michelle Walsh and you are nothing like her.”

“I left you,” she cried hoarsely. “I walked away from you without a word just like she left me. And I almost did it again.”

He cupped her face gently, holding her gaze. “You left a grown man who was keeping plenty of secrets from you as well, not your own child. You were young and didn’t have the coping skills you have now. You made a mistake. One you’ve apologized for. One I’ve forgiven you for. And you didn’t leave me this time. You’re here. You came back.”

“I didn’t get far,” she admitted, her voice somehow watery, despite her thinking she had no more tears left. “I couldn’t seem to make myself get on the highway. Instead, I drove around town for over an hour and then wound up at the lake. I sat there, in my car, for hours. Trying to convince myself to leave.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She looked up at him through wet lashes, her heart in her throat. “You.”

“Because of the promise you made?”

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