Page 36 of If Only You Hurt

My mom pats my hand that’s clenching the mug in front of me. My mouth drops open, and I almost get a word out when she continues.

“Oh, sweetheart, you and your sister think I’m not observant, but I am. I knew you were more than friends with Laney quite some time ago. I just kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want to freak you out. I know what love looks like. I saw it every day in the eyes of your father until the day he died. I saw it in Shane when he was young, and I see it today when he looks at your sister.

“I luckily get to see it directed at me with Rick now. I see love, Grant. Love isn’t what is lacking between you and Laney. Love isn’t what she lacked for you that day she lost the baby. She has always loved you. Her love is what kept her from divulging this secret. She loves you so much that she didn’t want you to hurt even more.”

“But her actions are currently hurting me now.” I leave it at that, feeling more like a child than the thirty-year-old man I am.

“Yeah, I know. It stings. It will sting. And maybe every time you think back on that day, a part of your heart will be permanently hurt, knowing that more was lost than you were ever given the privilege of knowing back then. But with pain comes growth.

“You know this. I’ve said this to you before when talking about how I coped with your father’s death. I’m not disregarding your feelings or the gravity of this lost life. I promise I’ve seen more deaths in my career as a nurse than I would ever wish upon anyone. I do have clarity with the pain, though. Love shines through during the darkest of times.”

“Yes, but I put so much of my needs to the side to make sure she was okay. She ignored my needs. She made a huge assumption about what was best for me, and it feels like she chose this because it was easier for her.”

My mom looks around her kitchen, biting into her lower lip, pensive as always.

“Grant, I hate to say this and sound insensitive, but I’m going to anyway. Miscarriage is such a personal thing. And sometimes, it’s not about what other people need. It’s just about what the person who literally lost the child is feeling. It’s perceived as selfish, but in all honesty, it’s self-preserving in so many ways. Laney needed to have some control in her life when everything else was chaos.”

I take in what my mom just said, and I am starting to understand things a little clearer when she puts it that way.

“When Laney was in that hospital in Wyoming, you brought to her life a touch of beauty when things were ugly everywhere else. She needed love. She needed comfort. She needed care. And you didn’t hesitate. Any chance you got, you were there for her. Even if you couldn’t physically be there, you made sure she had what she needed to put one foot in front of the other. That’s love, Grant. But what she did to you is love too. It’s painful, but love is agonizing too. That’s the other side of love, sweetie.”

It’s so true. Love is messy, something the Hollywood movies don’t always depict. In the life of social media, we are constantly fed this version of love that’s flawless. But love is raw, and it’s full of cracks. It’s full of moments where you’re standing at a crossroads, and the only person that can navigate the path is you.

Laney was standing at that crossroads, and I see now that she was making the best decision she could to ensure she would make it out of that pit of darkness whole again. She will no longer live life the way she once did, full of brightness and openness. On that day, the shooters took her ability to see the world as flawless and showed its underbelly.

Life went from calm to chaos in a way we all see in spurts. She got her views changed within seconds. She saw the ugliness that is carried in humanity within an instant, and she will never fully recover. I’ve known this, but I haven’t really grasped the fact that her day in Wyoming is cemented in each part of her future.

My eyes feel heavy, and I’m tired of crying.

“I appreciate you listening to me. I can always count on you to hold my heart with love. I appreciate you never holding judgment.”

My mom smiles, standing from her seat and wrapping her arms around me she whispers, “Grant, my role isn’t to judge. It’s to serve as your guidance. It’s to be the person to introduce you to love in the realest form. That’s a mother. I’m not your judge and jury. I will always be your mother. One that cares deeply for both my kids in a way that takes over my mind daily.”

She cups my cheeks, her love a warmth I feel deep into my soul.

“One day, Grant, you will be gifted a child. One day, you will get to hold that child in your arms, and you, too, will be at a crossroads. You will be standing, wondering how to move left or right. And you have to judge your movements with instincts. There’s never going to be the right path versus the wrong. It’s about the best path for that situation.

“Remember that when you feel yourself leaning toward resentment and anger with Laney. She was at that fork in the road, and she chose what she felt was best for her and, ultimately, what was best for you in her mind. It doesn’t feel that way right now, but it’s what the love she felt for you pushed her to do. She did it for you both, even if it feels like a self-centered decision. You were always on her mind. That I can guarantee.”

She wipes the lone tear that escapes my eye, and I lean into her hand. I kiss the inside of her palm. I smile up at her, and it feels like things will start moving in the right direction.

I hear a commotion at the front door, and the door opens, and life is breathing into the house once again with my niece, Rick, and Shane walking inside. My mom quickly wipes under her eyes and winks at me. I know that everything we discussed, my mom will keep to herself. She’s a vault when she needs to be, and I feel like a heavy part of what I carried on my back has been let go.

“Grace, we stocked up for the storm of the century. Got all the essentials—hot chocolate, marshmallows, Nutella, bread, eggs, flour, and anything else that we can use to whip up something on a whim.”

My mom chuckles. Rick has the biggest sweet tooth, so it’s no surprise he went for all the high-carbohydrate snacks to keep him entertained during this upcoming storm.

“Hey, Nana. Thanks for letting me stay here while I wait this storm out. It’s sort of scary to be in that apartment with the power flickering. Last time, I slept with a bat next to my bed.”

“Olive, I’ve seen you try to hit a ball when we played softball with the twins. I wouldn’t say that a bat would have helped you in an emergency.” That’s Shane, and I hear my niece gasp at her father’s words.

“Excuse me, I am very good under pressure, I’ll have you know.” She’s huffing into the kitchen and startles when she sees me sitting at the table upon her entrance.

“Hey, Liv. How are you?” I stand up and take Olive into my arms.

My niece is seven years younger than me, and we have more of a sibling relationship than an uncle and niece dynamic. I mean, she’s closer in age to me than my own sister, so there’s that.

“Hey, Uncle G. I wasn’t expecting you.” She isn’t as short as her mother, but she’s still smaller than me. She stands up on her tippy toes and kisses my cheek. I pull the bag of groceries out of her arms and bring them to the counter. Rick walks in with a few more bags, Shane trailing behind him with more.

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