Page 87 of Y'allywood Billionaire

She shakes her head vigorously. “Still. I failed in every way that matters.”

My voice is quiet when I say, “How can you say that?”

“You don’t understand.” Her voice is acid.

“Then tell me, Mother. For once,tellme.”

“You’ll think it’s silly.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“You say that, now.” She scoffs. “But we all have dreams. I tried to make it on Broadway, okay?” She barks out a humorless laugh. “But I embarrassed myself and my family during my one big shot. Happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy! I’m hurt you never told me about something that was so important to you.”

She throws her arms in the air. “Well, there you go. Your mother practiced her entire young life, day and night, to live her dream of singing on Broadway. And when I finally got my big break, all I did was forget the lyrics and get laughed off the stage. After that epic crash and burn, I came home, jobless and broke—with my tail between my legs. By then, Patrick had started working at Glenn & Glenn Legal. He was already winning big cases. And who was I? The college dropout who had no practical skills because I’d spent every waking hour perfecting my voice and working with air, cords, and resonance—which was useless in the real world. Mom made sure I knew every day how much I’d disappointed her.” She slams her cup down so hard it cracks into pieces.

I stand and pull my mother into a hug, and she feels so thin and frail as she shakes and sobs into my shoulder. It’s difficult for me to imagine Grams being that way, and Mom has a tendency to exaggerate, but regardless, it’s clear her wounds run deep. God, I wish she’d get therapy. “I’m so sorry.”

I hold her until she calms, and when she does, she pulls away and brushes herself off. She lifts her chin as she stands and fetches the broom to sweep the broken glass. It’s like she opened up as much as she could, and now, that door’s slammed shut again.

I go get a rag and the garbage can, then return and start putting the pieces on the table in the trash. We work in silence, the tension building in the room.

Mom dumps the dustpan full of glass into the garbage. “Do you know what it’s like to live with constant disapproval?”

I run the rag over the table to clean the spilled tea. After checking for any remaining glass, I find another tiny piece on the table. I carefully pick it up and throw it away, then look at her, my eyes broken. “I do, actually.”

Her face falls, then pales. She stares at me, quietly, like my words have shaken her. I hope to hell they have. She blinks, slowly nodding before she says, “Right. Because I did that to you.”

I swallow hard, fighting off the urge to say that it’s okay. Because it’s not. It never has been. I force myself to speak. “Yes. You did. You still do.”

She looks at the floor, then stumbles to sit in her chair. She puts her hands over her face. “I was disapproved of, then I turned around and did the same thing to you.” She shakes her head. “I repeated the pattern, didn’t I?”

“You told me I’d never amount to anything.”

She gasps. “When?”

“I was six. I’ve never forgotten it.”

“Riley…” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t know what was going on, but I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry I said something like that.” She chokes back a sob. “I’m so ashamed.” I don’t know how to respond, but I don’t have to because she keeps talking. “But you’ll break the cycle. You’re stronger. You succeeded where I failed. You’re a better person than I am.”

I move the garbage can out of the way and take a seat in front of her, taking her hand. “Mom, I’ve been seeing a therapist. You should try it. It helps.”

She nods slowly. “Maybe I will. Just give me some time, Riley. I’ll get there.” She looks at me, and her eyes look gaunt, tired. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out why it’s so difficult for me to accept things when they don’t go my way. I know I’m pushing everyone away, but I can’t stop myself.” Tears fall, and she shakes her head. “I turned my back on you. It was impossible for me to see you make a life choice I thought was going to crush your soul like mine had been. And now, you’ve succeeded. Which should make me happy, but I can’t be because all I see is the criticism and hatred dumped on you daily.”

I sigh, patting her hand. “I understand. All of thathasbeen soul-crushing. And I’m figuring out ways to handle it. But honestly, I wouldn’t change anything. I have to live my life and make my mistakes. To find my own way, even if it sucks.”

She nods before blowing out a jagged exhale. “I’m sorry.”

Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say those words. “Thank you,” I mumble, something catching in my throat. “For apologizing.”

Her face twists. “I failed you.”

“Our lives aren’t over yet.”

She manages a weak smile. “They aren’t, are they? But I have a lot of work to do on myself. Will you be patient with me?”

“Of course.”

---