Page 7 of Rival Summer

She hesitated and then let out a slow breath, exhaling the weight she had held onto for years. "Maybe," she shrugged. "Or perhaps we were just... caught up in it all. The parties, the Bayside ball, the glamor of those events." She offered a wistful smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "After Reese came into the picture, nothing was the same. We became strangers under the same roof, arguing over everything."

"Couldn't you have left?" I asked, trying my best to understand.

Her smile faded completely. "I wanted to. I told him I wanted to take Reese and move to Stillwater because your aunt was here. But he..." her words faltered as she swallowed hard. "He was ruthless. Said he'd fight me tooth and nail—and he did. He said his child was destined to grow up in Bayside. He was already the most prominent lawyer there, Boston. And now? He's untouchable. What chance did I stand? No money, no influence. He stripped me of all rights—he got full custody. I couldn’t stay in Bayside after that, knowing my son was in thesame town, but I could never see him. When I got here I was so depressed. I was drinking a lot, I had a summer fling with your father, and then I almost lost you. I knew from that moment on I’d do anything to protect you. I wouldn’t have survived losing you, too."

I absorbed her words, a surge of protective anger building towards the man who’d caused her so much pain. She rarely ever discussed my father, but according to my mom, after she gave birth to me early at 30 weeks, the doctors thought I wouldn't make it. My father came to see me in the NICU at first, but then he stopped coming altogether. She always said his heart couldn't handle seeing me in such a fragile state, thinking I wouldn’t make it. And then he left town. To this day, I don't think he knows I lived. My mother always called me her miracle baby.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

For a moment there was only the sound of her shaky inhale. "I just wanted to protect you from it all." Her hands clasped together tightly, knuckles white. "I was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to know I’d lost custody. I feel like a failure. I am a failure."

Pieces of a puzzle I hadn't even known were missing suddenly clicked into place, reshaping the landscape of my life. Everything would be different now.

"You’re not a failure." My eyes searched hers for something, anything, that might help me understand. "But you should have told me."

"Everything I did... Boston, it was never meant to hurt anyone," she said, her voice laced with emotion so raw I thought she might cry. Her gaze held mine, pleading silently for me to understand.

"I’m sorry for keeping it from you," she added, her lips quivering. "Believe me, I thought about it every day."

For years, she had carried the burden alone, and I could see now the toll it had taken on her.

"Mom," I started again, my heart clenching at the sight of her distress. I wanted to be angry, to let the betrayal wash over me, but as I sat there watching her crumble under the weight of her own secrets, all I could feel was a deep, aching sympathy.

"I wish you didn’t have to deal with that on your own," I said softly, closing the space between us. I reached for her hand, and squeezed gently. "But I get it. You did what you thought was best."

She looked up at me then, her blue eyes swimming with unshed tears, and in that moment I saw not just my mother, but someone who had battled demons I was only just beginning to comprehend.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hand squeezing back, conveying a lifetime of love and sacrifice in a single, fragile embrace.

Standing in the house, now, with the ghost of that conversation lingering between us, I couldn't help but feel a wave of grief for the simplicity of our past. For a time when my biggest worry was what was for dinner, not this tangled web of secrets.

My mom's arms wrapped around my frame, pulling me back from the edge of my thoughts. "Thank you for taking care of me, hunny," she squeezed even tighter. "I love you."

"Love you too," I replied, the weight of our shared struggles momentarily lifting in her embrace. "But I've got to get going. I need to shower and head out for another training session soon."

"Okay, but you better let yourself rest," she said gently, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "Ruth next door said yourmuscles are getting a little too big. She asked if you're training for one of those Magic Mike things."

That coaxed an involuntary chuckle out of me, a brief pause from the heaviness in my chest. "I told her yes, just to see her reaction," she confessed with a grin. "You should've seen it, Boston—I swear she almost dropped her watering can."

"Goodbye, Mom," I said, giving her an eye roll. "And quit messing with that poor woman."

Stepping outside, I closed the front door behind me with a soft click, sealing away the sanctuary of my childhood home. A deep breath filled my lungs, the outside air refreshing even though it was warm.

I lingered on the threshold for a moment longer. Being near my mom was still hard for me. It was a task to keep it all together for her when every cell in my body felt broken.

With a final exhale, I released some of that burden into the breeze and sat in one of her porch rocking chairs. I traced a crack in the white wood. The world outside felt distant, like I was peering into it from some strange dream as my thoughts drifted.

The sharp thud of knuckles against wood jolted me awake.

In an instant, I stumbled to the door half asleep, and yanked it open. It was her, Chandler Hartford, the moonlight creating a spotlight just for her. Her hazel eyes were wide with concern.

"Chandler," I managed to say, feeling suddenly conscious that I wasn’t wearing a shirt, gray sweatpants hanging from my hips.

She had barely acknowledged my disheveled state, her brows furrowed as she launched into her rant. "Why is no one texting me back? Parker dropped me off and promised to keepme updated, but nothing. And you—you haven't answered your phone at all."

Her words tumbled out in a torrent, each sentence filled with frustration. "Your coach dropped that bomb on us this morning, and I couldn't even think straight the whole drive back. Why is no one else flipping out right now? I’m flipped out!"

I watched as she paced before me, hands flying expressively as she spoke. The rise and fall of her voice, the slight quiver of anger mixed with worry, twisted my heart. But my thoughts were shackled by Reese. He was unraveling my life; his presence in hers wasn’t something I could ever get on board with.

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