That gift wasn’t for him. It was from me to my mother.
“I-I got that for you.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, what would I need it for?
I have everything I want.”
Everything. Except me.
Years of neglect hung between us. My grandmother shot me a sympathetic glance, but I forced a smile.
I wouldn’t let them see me break.
“Dinner’s ready,” Charlie called from the dining room, oblivious to the moment or choosing to ignore it.
“Come on,” my mother said, lifting Jason from his high chair. “The roast will get cold.”
That was the last time I ever wanted to see my mother. After that night, I stopped trying.
Continue reading…
