Page 117 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

“I felt like it was all my fault for the longest time.”

Mom sniffs. “Makes us quite the pair.”

“I think what upset me the most was you not wanting me to use crutches. The wheelchair is easier, but I like having the choice and being able to move.”

“And I should have let you. Just after that incident in Dublin, I didn’t want you to be embarrassed again.”

I frown. “What incident?”

She stares at me. “You don’t remember.”

“No.”

She blinks rapidly. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. We went back to Dublin for a visit when you were ten or so. You were attempting to use crutches here and there. You stumbled and fell in a store. Some other girls laughed at you.” Her eyes narrow as they snap with anger. “There was a woman, too, who made a horrible comment about how I should just put you in a wheelchair instead of trying to show you off.”

I gasp. The vague stirrings of a memory, of laughter as I lay on a tile floor, stir. But it’s just that, a vague recollection.

“That was my final straw. After that, I just…I just wanted to keep you safe.” She sniffs. “And instead I hurt you.”

I want to say it’s okay. But it’s not. Finally, after years of suppressed hurt and frustration, my mom and I are clearing the air. Dismissing her apology would be a disservice to both of us.

“Thank you, Mom.”

She looks back at my apartment. Her smile is tinged with pride. Deep inside, I feel the edges of an old wound start to come together. Far from healed. But starting down a path I never thought possible.

“Yet look at all you’ve accomplished. It’s incredible.”

“Thank you.” I glance down, suddenly shy. “I actually just took on a new client. And hired an assistant.”

Her smile widens. “You always did have a knack for decorating. Maybe you can give your father and me some tips.”

The thought of going back to Santorini, of visiting, still makes my chest tight. But not nearly as much. And as I think of the home I grew up in, with its huge windows and colorful furniture, I smile.

“I’d like that. How is Dad?”

A shutter drops over my mother’s face. “Well, I think.”

“Is he not here?”

“No, he went back to Greece this morning.”

The pain in her voice is faint but present.

“Are you two okay?”

She shrugs. “After we saw you at Katie’s engagement party, we had…a very hard conversation.”

Alarm shoots through me. “Are you two…?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. We both said a lot of things we’d been holding in for years. My anger at how he became so fixated on his career. His anger at what he saw as my lack of support and how I can become…fixated on things.” Her expression turns sad. “We both knew about that. But I didn’t realize the remorse he’d harbored all those years.”

“Remorse?”

“I think he knew, deep down, that he threw himself too hard into his career for where we were at in life. He’s carried guilt around all these years that if he hadn’t gone to Dublin that day, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen.”

I shake my head. “It’s hard to realize how much we’ve all been letting regret run our lives.”

“Until now.” My mother’s smile is almost shy. “You and Katie have accomplished so much. You especially since you left.”

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