Page 118 of Seeing Grayscale

Our spot.

I’m shocked she remembered.

As I run a hand through my hair, I pace, hoping I’m not making a mistake. I told Gray I was running out to grab groceries, which is partly true. If this doesn’t go well, I didn’t want him worrying or getting his hopes up. In some child-like way, I want this to go how I see it playing out in my head. Graywould have loved my mom before she left—before vices and sleep became more important than me.

No one can replace his parents, I know that. The way he talks about them is all the proof I need. But everyone needs a sense of family and belonging.

God, I want to give him that more than anything.

I check my watch, noting it’s just past three. What if my dad doesn’t let her leave? He tends to want to know her comings and goings, which I can’t exactly fault him for. The governor’s wife can’t be seen out and about without security or making sure she isn’t in a place she shouldn’t be.

What if she doesn’t come? What if she told him?

A chill trickles down my spine. The fragile hope in my chest is crushing under the pressure of fear.

Fuck.

I grab out my pack of cigarettes and pop one in my mouth. She’s always hated that I smoke, and the few times I’ve quit, hoping she’d take the hint and stop drinking, she never did. It’s been so long since I’ve thought about any of this, caught in the constant wheel of repetition. If not for Gray, I doubt I’d ever have tried.

I probably would’ve never allowed her to fix what she broke.

Another ten minutes pass, I finish my cigarette, and my heart sinks. She’s not coming. Either my dad didn’t let her leave the house, or she got too drunk to drive.

I should’ve known better.

Clenching my jaw tight, I walk out of the playground and toward my car. Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I know better than this. My mother died the minute she walked out of our lives. I pick up my pace, tempted to run. When my feet leave the icy grass and hit the asphalt, I stop dead in my tracks.

Her sleek Mercedes-Benz pulls into the parking spot beside my car, and I nearly shatter. The door swings open, and she getsout, burrowing into her thick coat. Her piercing green eyes land on mine, and a delicate, albeit hesitant, smile brushes over her lips.

I try hard not to look at her too much, so it always takes me back when our shared features are displayed like this. We look so much alike, it’s uncanny. Slap a beard on her, and you’d barely be able to tell us apart.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says, walking over to me. “I’m sorry I’m late. It was a nightmare to get Felix and Isaac to back off.”

Their security guards are nothing if not efficient.

“It’s okay,” I croak, emotions still fucking with me. She gives me a brief hug, and I don’t smell any wine on her breath when she pops a lipstick-covered kiss on my cheek.

“It’s frosty out,” she jokes, shivering dramatically. Her brunette hair is slightly curled, and one side is tucked behind her ear. Tasteful diamond studs are all she ever wears for jewelry.

She places a small hand on my arm when I don't reply. “What is going on, Hunter?”

“I—” I swallow. “Mom.”

Her eyes soften as concern pools in them. I can’t remember the last time she looked at me like this. “Tell me.”

“Mom,” I croak, the tears welling faster than I can stop them.

“Is this about the article? Sweetie, why are you crying?”

“Mom.” It’s all I can say. A child crying out for his mother. A broken man who’s gotten so good at pretending that the truth feels like jagged knives. She’s here. She remembers. So many things rush to the forefront of my mind, so many old scars that burn and ooze to this day, and all I can do is say her name.

My mom.

Her hands cup my cheeks, her green eyes urging me to say anything, but I can’t. She holds me for long seconds while I simply look at her. I want to know why. Why did she leave me?Why did she come back? Why didn’t she ever tell me what was so fucking important that hersonstopped mattering?

I don’t know if my expression mirrors these questions or if she simply knows, but my mother blows out an unsteady breath.

“You want to know why?”

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