Page 72 of Kortlek

“No wonder I’m insane at times. It runs in the family.’’

She flicks my forehead, and I groan, sitting up. I rub the sore spot on my skin, narrowing my eyes at her. The amused smirk doesn’t leave her lips as she stares, challenging me to say anything. I’m brave — but not that brave. Not brave enough to challenge my mother.

“Any particular reason you’re curious about the proposal, hm?”

“Yeah.’’

She nods, silently urging me to go on.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Cove proposed to me?”

Mom freezes, her mouth parting slightly. Her brows crease, and eyes narrow at me. She folds her arms in front of her chest, pondering that for a moment. Then, she blinks.

“Well? Are you going to elaborate, or am I supposed to be guessing here?”

“To be fair, it was in the spur of the moment. But it keeps replaying in my head. Oh, it also happened while we were surrounded by dead bodies and covered in blood.’’

“You’re scared,’’ she whispers softly, taking her hand in mine. “Look, sweetheart. Emotions are very complicated. I understand why you’d keep thinking about it, especially if it happened in the heat of the moment, but you’re young. Firstly, I would never let you marry so young. Secondly, even if you love him with your whole heart, you don’t have to say yes if you’re not ready. But if you think that he just slipped up and said it thoughtlessly, you’ll need to talk to him. Being on the same wavelength is important.’’

“It’s not that,’’ I squeeze her hands, looking at the floor. My bottom lip trembles slightly, and with a deep breath, I continue. “It’s just… I trust him. I let myself depend on him. It feels good. But at the same time, I feel helpless. This whole Wyatt situation is making me second-guess everything. Cove’s hiding something from me. He’s lying to me. And it hurts. It hurts because there’s no scenario where I’d lie to him about anything.’’

“Do you think he’s lying to protect you?”

“I don’t know!” I raise my voice slightly, my vision blurring with tears. “I don’t want him to lie to protect me. I hate that. It throws me right back to when I was with Wyatt. All the lies, the deception - they never brought anything good. I don’t want anyone fighting my battles. I want someone supporting me while I fight them myself.’’

Mom pulls me into a tight hug, holding my head buried in her chest, gently stroking my hair. I return the embrace, letting the tears fall. I stay in the safety of her tight grasp, letting the sound of her heartbeat slowly steady me.

The tears dry out, and I take a deep breath. Her familiar scent hits my nose and I feel at ease. It’s like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. Mom’s always been the safest person I knew. I love my dad more than words can describe, but there’s something about the way Mom loves me that can’t compare to anything.

With a deep breath, I make distance between us. Mom wipes my tears away with her thumbs. I see the worry and hurt on her face, and I throw on a fake smile, trying to reassure her. She sees right through the false expression, cupping my cheeks.

“No need to pretend around me, sweetheart. It’s okay.’’

I give her a small smile, grateful for her words. “Thank you. I’ll be okay.’’

“I know,’’ she whispers. “But I need you to know that no matter what it’s about or when, I’ll always be here for you. You and Arlo will always be my priority, okay?”

I nod.

“Good,’’ she releases me. “Now, let’s go up and make dinner.’’

“I’ll help you, but I’ll drop by my apartment first.’’

We rise to our feet, heading out of the basement. She glances at me briefly, then starts walking up the stairs. “Any particular reason why?”

“I want to check in on Rose,’’ I chuckle. “I left with no explanation. She’s going to kill me.’’

Mom nods. “Alright. But sleep here tonight. I want you within my eyesight.’’

I help Mom quickly prepare dinner, then grab her car keys and head out of the door. I’d go with my bike, but it’s too late and too cold for that now. Besides, I like using Mom’s things every once in a while. It drives her absolutely crazy, and no doubt I’ll get an earful for using her car without asking first.

The drive to my place is fairly quick, and I’m mentally preparing myself for the scolding from Rose.

However, once I unlock the door and step inside, I immediately freeze.

Something’s odd.

It’s the end of November. It’s too cold inside, as if no one’s turned the heating on in days. I make my way through the apartment, my eyes darting left and right. The kitchen’s clean, but there are a few plates and glasses in the sink, dirty. They’ve been there for a day or two at least.

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