Page 34 of Lush

Mom turned to face the thick cream-colored curtains that hung on either side of the windows. “Let’s head to the living room to talk.”

Mom had tried to stop time after Conrad’s death.

Inside the living room, on the left wall was a massive fireplace carved from Italian marble that stood like a shrine, lined with photographs. Conrad dominated the space. His pictures were everywhere, all facing forward, as if the house itself couldn’t let him go. There were other things too—some old letters Conrad had written half hidden behind the frames, a trophy he’d won in middle school, an old baseball glove he’d worn when we were kids. There were a few photos of Jennie and me as kids, just afterthoughts.

“Do you still blame me?”

Mom froze. Blinking, she looked away, easing herself down into the chair gently.

“You killed him. You killed my baby!”

The hospital room had been suffocating, sterile, the hum ofmachines blending with the harsh overhead lights. Conrad had lain there, still, as if he was already gone.

I’d stood frozen, Jennie gripping my side, while Mom’s words hit me like a knife to the gut.

“You killed him. You killed my baby,”she whispered, her voice trembling with venom.“You were jealous of your brother, weren’t you? You couldn’t just behave? He would never do this to you!”

“It was an accident,”I’d pleaded, trying to make her understand.“We lost control—Mom… Please. He lost control too?—”

“No! You hurt him! You took him away from me!”

“I didn’t mean for the fight to happen.” The words slipped out, softer than I intended, almost like a confession I’d never spoken aloud before. “Conrad… We just starting arguing like before.”

I hadn’t wanted any of it. Not the fight, not the damage, and damn sure I never wanted a plan to begin with. Things were supposed to be simple. I didn’t want to hurt Conrad. But somewhere along the way, he had become hell-bent on hurting me, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“Reese,” she said, tears forming in her blue eyes. “I…I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The words came out sharper than intended. “You don’t know how you feel about me? Your own son?”

“Some days…some days the anger just bubbles up. It’s hard to separate it from the pain. I want to blame something, someone.” Her nails, painted a soft pink, were perfectly manicured as always, but now she picked at her cuticle I saw blood. “Losing a child is a pain no parent should endure.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, the words feeling jagged, “I get it.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I know it’s been hard for you. I should have been stronger. I’m sorry for how I reacted that night. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

I didn’t know what hit me first—the tightness in my chest orthe way her voice cracked, the rawness in it, the apology. For a second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“Why?” Mom whispered, looking at the mantel and the shrine to Conrad there. “Why did Conrad have to die? What did I do to deserve this? Should I have stopped him when he wanted to take the yacht out?”

“Mom.” I struggled to find the right words. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

Part of me had always wondered what if I had just given up and let him have Laurene?

You would never do that.

“I couldn’t protect him.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t save him. What kind of mother does that make me?”

“You’ve always been the strongest person I know. None of this was your fault. None of it.” My throat tightened. “You did everything you could. We all did.”

I squeezed her hand gently, hoped she could feel the love and reassurance I was desperately trying to convey. I watched her face, the exhaustion and guilt in her eyes, and something inside me broke, just a little.

“I know you tried to save him. You loved your brother.” Tears fells down her face, and she quickly wiped them away.

“I’m going to do better. You and Jennie shouldn’t have to look after me anymore. I won’t break again. We have your wedding and a grandchild on the way!”

She cupped my cheek tenderly, and instinctively I leaned into her.

“I love you, Reese. I need you to know that.”

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