Page 221 of Anger

“Hello? Aren’t you two coming?”

Kane looks over and shakes his head.

“This is all you, Sis. Mom isn’t waiting to talk to us.”

Pricks.

While they’re outside enjoying their bromance, I’m heading inside to face a woman I’ve never understood.

Knowing I have no choice but to pull up my big girl panties, I make my way inside, my steps slow as I weave past the furniture in the tiny living room to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table.

She stands up as soon as she sees me, her blue eyes meeting mine as she smooths her dress down with her hands.

It’s obvious she’s nervous, but what surprises me is that I clearly see pure love and happiness in her expression.

Mom never looks happy to see me.

I feel like I’m walking up to a stranger.

“Amélie, I’m so happy you’ve come to see me.”

I reach the table, and we both stand awkwardly.

This is the moment a mother should pull their child into a hug, but she doesn’t lift her arms to do so. Not that I expected she would.

“Have a seat,” she says. “Can I get you something to drink? We have juice, water, some soda—“

“I’m good, Mom. Don’t bother yourself with all of that.”

Mom nods, the movement sharp like she’s battling a jumble of nerves.

Taking a seat opposite me, she moves as if to reach across the table for my hand but stops and pulls her arm back to her lap.

Silence is heavy in the room, pregnant with all the questions I want to ask, and all the answers I know she’ll never give me.

Unable to stand it, I break the silence with a soft voice.

“Damon told me what you said to him.”

She smiles, the expression barely there. “He’s a good man. I’m glad you met him. He’s someone you can trust.”

Her smile brightens. “He’s handsome, too. I think you both are lucky to have found each other.”

More silence.

My Mom fidgets like she wants to say something, but for whatever reason she can’t find the words.

If anybody is going to start this conversation, it’s me.

“Mom, why did you tell Damon about what happened to you? About why we were running all the time when I was a kid? Kane and I have been trying to figure that out our entire lives, and it would have made things easier for us if we’d known. But then you tell a stranger you just met?”

Tears well in my eyes to think about my past—to think about how I believed my mother was simply crazy without knowing what mental issue she had.

My biggest fear was that someday I would end up just like her. As if the years would eventually twist my brain in the same way no matter how fast I run.

“I was trying to protect you,” she admits, her eyes holding mine. Tears shimmer at the lower brims, and I swallow hard to keep from breaking down in sobs.

She shakes her head, her long brown hair slipping over her shoulder.

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