Page 30 of Crossfire

But I guess when someone hurts you that bad, when they hurt someone you love, forgiveness can be quite hard.

I’d moved forward with her, yes. But fully forgiven? That’s debatable. It was more like sweeping a boulder under a rug—always there, always felt.

One mantra had kept me from drowning in resentment.

“Steve’s my soulmate, Ivy,” Mom had insisted countless times. “I wasn’t looking for it. It just happened, and I can’t imagine my life without him.”

And now, it seemed this supposed soulmate had been married all along.

“How did you find out?” I wondered aloud.

“He confessed.” I could hear the lump in her throat. “It was more of a heated argument, I suppose. The truth just…exploded out when I pushed him about our future.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think. When I finally found my voice, all I could manage was a weak, “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

The words felt hollow, inadequate. Because the truth was, a small, ugly part of me didn’t want to feel sorry for her. That part wanted to scream,You left Dad for him! You threw away everything, hurt us all, for a lie!

But as I looked at her—really looked at her—I saw the devastation in her features, the slight tremor in her hands. And suddenly, I was overwhelmed by a wave of compassion so strong, it nearly brought me to my knees.

I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone, least of all my mother. To realize you’d left a man who truly loved you, who had built his life around you, for someone who had been deceiving you all along? To discover that the person you thought was your soulmate had been weaving an intricate web of lies, making you believe you were his entire world when you were just…God, I couldn’t even think the wordmistresswithout feeling sick.

In that moment, I realized that despite everything that had happened between us, despite the hurt and the anger, I would do whatever it took to help her through this.

“You don’t have to say that.” Mom massaged her hands together, and when she spoke, her voice cracked. “I got what I deserved.”

“Mom…”

“It’s true.” She raised her chin stoically despite the tears in her eyes. “What I did to your father was wrong, and this is karma’s way of coming back to me.” She looked down again. “I deserved much worse, if you ask me.”

“No one deserves to have their heart broken, Mom. I know you loved Steve and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.”

Mom took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, the way she always did when she was ready to end the subject.

“I’d better let you rest,” she declared, making it obvious this was too fresh, too painful to discuss further. “I’m glad you’re safe, Ivy.”

“Wait,” I said, standing up after her. “Let’s grab dinner?”

She offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Another time, okay?”

As she turned her back and started to walk out my front door, my mouth ran dry. I’d never seen Mom this hurt, and I’d never witnessed her beating herself up either. Maybe she regretted ending things with Dad; maybe she even blamed herself for his suicide.

“Mom, don’t go,” I pleaded.

At the sound of my near shriek, Mom paused, turned around, and sighed—recognizing the source of my panic.

“I’m sad,” she said. “But I’m not going to hurt myself, Ivy. Okay?”

Breathe in. Breathe out, Ivy.

Mom wrapped her arms around me, and I surrendered to her embrace, the soft strands of her hair sliding over my cheek.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” She pulled back and smiled. “Now, go. Get some rest.”

I watched Mom climb into her car, and as she drove off, I exhaled shakily, feeling foolish for my mini panic attack. Then again, I’d nearly died this morning. A little jumpiness was probably normal under the circumstances.

Desperate for some semblance of normalcy, I drew a bath, hoping the warm water might soothe my frayed nerves. As I sank into the bubbles, the shock of my near-death experience began to wear off, leaving raw emotion in its wake.

You’re alive. Be grateful for that.

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