Harrison steps up behind me. “Immy, who’s—” He freezes when he sees her, the resemblance enough to fill in the blanks.
“I’m her mother,” she announces.Mother.What a joke. She wouldn’t know the first thing about being one if it slapped her in the face. “I deserve to see my grandson. As his grandmother, I have rights.”
“Bullshit,” I snap. “You lost any rights the day you walked out on me seventeen years ago.”
“You can’t just show up here out of nowhere and act like you get a say in any of this,” Harrison says, his voice dangerously calm.
“Well, aren’t you the noble one?” she sneers, turning her gaze to him.
“Deborah?” Dad’s voice cuts through the tension. His face pales like he’s seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?” She is a fucking ghost. An unwelcome visitor.
“Just catching up,” she says breezily. “Still stuck in this dump, I see.”
“Of course, you’d say that.” Harrison’s hand slides around my waist, steadying me as I take a breath. I glare at her. “You’re not welcome. My son doesn’t need you. I don’t need you. So turn around, crawl back to whatever hellhole you came from, and stay there.”
My mother straightens. “I’ll go to court. Apply for grandparent rights.”
Dad lets out a low, incredulous laugh. “Good luck with that, Deborah.” He slams the door in her face.
The silence that follows is thick. My heart pounds, adrenaline burning through me. I let out a long, shaky breath, and it feels like a weight’s been lifted from my chest.
“Right, let’s get back to dinner,” Dad says too casually before turning to walk back inside.
“Geez, guess we all have some parental issues or something.” Michael raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. Harrison shoves him, but I can’t help but smile. Trust Michael to always have a joke or two lying around when it’s least expected.
Harrison wraps his arm around me as we walk. “You okay?”
I tilt my head back, giving him a smile, the kind that says I’m more than okay. “Yeah, fuck her. Knowing her, she won’t do shit. She’s not that bothered. She just likes to make a scene, that’s all.”
“I’m proud of you, sugar. You stood your ground.”
“If I don’t, she’ll think she can just walk all over me. Not today. Not ever.”
Harrison nods, and we settle back into the quiet rhythm of us, the table’s chatter fading into the background. The buzz in my chest lingers, but it’s softer now.
I catch Dad’s eye across the room. He winks, that familiar glint of his steady love shining through. Thank God for him—the man who raised me, taught me to stand tall, to fight for what matters, and to never take shit from anyone. It might not have beenpicture perfect to some, but it was in my eyes. My father gave me everything she never could.
And now, there’s Harrison, too. This family. Old and new. Thank God we’re all here, on the same side, keeping my mother’s poison out for good.
42
Six months later
Be Still - The Fray
“Look at him go,” I say, the phone tilted just right to show Joseph. I tilt the phone down to show Joseph on his tummy, squirming with all the effort his little body can muster, pushing against the mat. His face scrunches with determination, legs kicking way too enthusiastically behind him. A squeal bursts from him, filling the whole room and a tight smile pulls at my lips.
Claire’s face lights up on the screen. “Look at that little guy! He’s so big now. Seven months, huh?”
“Yep,” I reply. “Time’s flying. Too fast, really.” Joseph kicks harder, almost rolling over. His squeals echo, eyes shining. I can’t help but smile, watching the way his eyes shine, so full of joy for the smallest victories.
“You’re both doing great. You look like you’re handling it so well.”
There’s a pause. I let my gaze linger on Joseph, but I’m not really seeing him right now. More like I’m just watching a little person take over my world while mine gets smaller and smaller, slipping through my fingers faster than I can keep up. Claire’s eyes narrow, picking up on something.
“Midge,” she says softly. “What’s that look? What’s wrong?”
I blink, my grip tightening on my phone. That pressure behind my chest, the one that’s been building up for weeks now, it’s right there. Ready to burst. “I’m fine. Just tired. You know, mum stuff.”