Page 52 of Better Left Unsaid

“It’s different.”

He looked sympathetic, a warm smile crossing his lips. “I imagine it is, but I think the real thing standing in your way from accepting her are your issues with your mother. And that’s not Jade’s fault. Frankly, it’s not your mother’s fault, either.”

I placed a hand on my chest. What exactly was he getting at? “Are you saying it’s my fault?” I asked, hearing how incredulous I sounded. I couldn’t help it, though. My emotions were all over the place. This wasn’t an easy subject for me.

Dom narrowed his gaze, his eyes searching mine. Well, if he was looking to figure out what I was thinking, my eyes didn’t have that answer. Not this time because I felt at odds with my own thoughts and emotions. Too much to even be able to have a readable expression on my face.

“You know I’m not. I think it was crap circumstances thirty plus years ago. In the moment, your mother did what she thought was best. And she lived with that decision for the rest of her life—good or bad, she carried that decision with her every single day of her life,” he replied.

“But why couldn’t she tell us? Why did she let us believe we were her only family? That I was her first child?” It hurt worse than a bee’s sting. I felt like my role in the family was ripped away from me. I was the oldest daughter. I helped take care of them. I was strong when they needed to fall apart. I was always there for them. It was my duty, my job as the oldest, and I loved that. In a way, it was who I was. Now, without it, I wasn’t so sure who I was anymore.

Dom shook his head. “Maria, you were her first. She didn’t get any firsts with Jade, except the actual birth. The point is, can’t you see how maybe she didn’t keep Jade from you because of you but because of herself? Maybe it was easier for her that way.”

“Allie basically said Dad said something similar to that.”

“And you don’t believe them?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that Mom and I were so close that it doesn’t change how it hurts me.”

“You have no idea if it hurt her, too. And I knew Regina, so I’d wager that it did. That keeping her secret from you hurt her as much as it’s hurting you.”

I could see Dom’s point and thought he might be right. She probably felt weighed down by it all those years. You would have never seen it when you’d looked at her, that she had been pained inside, that something had been eating away at her. I’d never even suspected that she had been keeping anything from us. Certainly not another child. She had always been happy, bright, and loving. She had been extremely present and caring. Not a day went by where she hadn’t expressed her unconditional love for us. It had been important to her that we knew no matter what, she would always—and I mean always—be there for us.

I knew the kind of love she had for us because I had it with my family, sure, but it was different when it was a love for your child. A mother’s love was, in fact, endless. There wasn’t any other way to put it.

I swallowed, licked my lips, and nodded, shutting my eyes briefly before reopening them and peering out the window again. “Maybe I’m ready to go inside and light that candle for Mom now.” I turned back to Dom, my heart feeling happy again. “Will you come with me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else but by your side.”

“I don’t know how I got so blessed with you as my friend.”

“Bestfriend.”

“Best friend.” I chuckled.

Dom got out first and walked around the car to open my door. As I slipped out, he took my hand, and we walked just like that, in relative silence, into the church. As soon as I stepped foot inside, I inhaled, taking in the familiar smells—frankincense and myrrh. They always filled the air thanks to all the burning incense, giving off a sweet and smoky aroma.

Walking in, we stopped at the holy water, and I dipped my fingers in it and made the sign of the cross. Beside me, Dom slipped his hand from mine and did the same. He walked to the pew in the back, kneeled, and made the sign of the cross again before slipping in and kneeling in prayer on the bench.

I would’ve followed him, but I knew mine was a different path—I was here to light a candle, and that was exactly what I intended to do. So, I walked to the rows and rows of candles off to the side, keeping those thoughts in mind. With every step I took, my heels were the only sound in the otherwise quiet and empty church.

As I found a candle and lit it, I kneeled and made the sign of the cross. Before I could say my prayers, instrumental music filled the church, and I had to wonder if it was a sign. Was this confirmation that I was making the right decision in letting go of the past, of my wounds, and moving on? I knew I certainly felt like it was the right decision—Dom was right, it was time.

My head fell into my hands as I leaned against the edge and started my prayers. I prayed with intention, I prayed for Mom’s soul, that it be resting peacefully and that she may know I forgave her. I prayed for Jade, asking that she could forgive me and feel the acceptance I wanted to give her, the acceptance she truly deserved.

By the time I finished saying my prayers, I felt spent in a whole new way. I gave every ounce I had to give, drained of every last emotion I had in me. Tears streamed down my face for most of them, but by the time I was finished, my eyes were dry, and I felt at peace. I felt lighter.

Dom was smart to bring me here, and just as I was about to turn and go find him so I could tell him, I was stopped by our priest.

“Maria,” he greeted me. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s been a while,” I confessed, feeling terrible all over again, afraid that he noticed what a bad Catholic I was.

“I couldn’t say,” he said and grinned, “but it is good to see you here now. I hope your family is well.”

I smiled. “They are.”

“And you?”

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