Page 157 of Girls Will Be Girls
She wipes at my cheek. “I never want you to feel unwanted. I want you. You’re my daughter, and I love you more than you could ever know.”
Tears are streaming down both our faces now.
“I lost my way. I took my pain out on you both, and I regret how I handled things back then every single day. I regret so many things that I did then, but I do not regret having you.
“I’m starting to find my way back to me, to who I was, who I am, but now it’s too late for me to fix the damage I inflicted on you two.”
I squeeze her hand, unsure what to say.
“I’m proud of you. For doing what you want.” She says.
“You are?” I say, tears streaming.
She wipes my cheek. “It’s the bravest thing you can do.”
I do something I haven’t done since I was twelve and I broke my arm falling off my bike. I let the tears fall and hug my mom tightly to me.
“I’m so sorry, Mom.” I squeeze her.
She’s clearly shocked by it, as her hands slowly and shakily lower to bring me closer. She squeezes me to her.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers back. “For so many things.”
When I pull away, we both wipe at our watery eyes, laughing awkwardly as we cry in front of each other for what feels like the first time.
“Can I read your work?” My mom asks.
“You want to read it?”
“Please.” She smiles.
I grin, a watery laugh escaping. “Okay. Yeah.”
I never knew how happy her reading my work could make me. But I don’t think I’ll be showing her everything just yet, especially the article titledThe Best Pelvic Exercises To Up Your Sex Game. Baby steps.
She inhales deeply, pushing the last of the wetness off her face. “I think I’m going to head back to my hotel.”
“Really?” I ask, suddenly desperate not to lose the ground we just made up together.
“It’s been a big night.” She smiles shakily. “Be good to process.”
I nod. “Sure. Yeah.”
“But, if you’re not busy. I don’t know what you have on, if you already have plans.” She rambles endearingly. “I don’t have to leave straight away. We could have lunch tomorrow?”
“Lunch?” A hopeful smile spreads across my face. “I would love to have lunch.”
She nods. “Great. I’ll text you the place.”
“Great.” I echo.
She takes my hand and squeezes it again. “Goodnight, Louisa.”
“Night.” I squeeze back.
She walks off, and before I lose all the courage that’s been injected into me tonight, I call after her.
“Mom.”
