The Heartbroken - S01 E156

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E156

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 156

When Dad died, it was like we

made a silent agreement to put a

lid on our feelings; a sloppy attempt

to make everything seem normal

just so we could move forward.

Now, the opportunity to talk about

it presented itself, and upon seeing

her expectant gaze on mine, I

found myself grabbing onto it.

“Hail’s mom had a mild stroke a few

days ago and I went to the hospital

with her yesterday. It wasn’t too

serious, but they had to be

cautious,” I explained, pausing to

take a deep breath before liftin my

eyes to hers. “The visit made me

think of Dad.”

Her shoulders went rigid.

In retrospect, I would have

preferred to have this conversation

when my nose wasn’t stuffed with

snot and my mind didn’t feel as

sluggish as it did, but I was afraid I

might never get the chance to talk

to her about this again so I

continued.

“I woke up last night and couldn’t

fall back to sleep. I kept thinking of

him.” I shook my head.“I really miss

him.”

She let out a breath and for the first

time since my father’s casket was

lowered to the ground, I finally saw

her strong façade falter, revealing

the vulnerability she had hidden for

so long.

“I miss him, too,” she said, her

voice catching on the third word. “I

miss him a lot.”

“That’s a lie,” I snapped.

Taken aback, her eyes snapped to

mine. I refused to look away,

daring her to deny it, and then her

eyes softened. She bit her lower lip,

dropping her gaze to her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about

Norman.”

I wasn’t sure what surprised me

more: the fact that she didn’t fight

back or the fact that she was

apologizing.

For weeks I’ve waited for her to say

sorry; waited for her to

acknowledge that while I knew I’d

been rash and prideful and

immature about the whole thing,

she had done something wrong

too. I’ve waited and waited and

waited, thinking the day would

never come, but now here it was,

and I couldn’t say anything.

“I was just waiting until I was sure

that things between us were

serious before I told you about

him,” she told me. “You weren’t

supposed to find out that way.”

I knew, of course, that this was a

good thing.

For the longest time, my mom had

focused on nothing but her job,

and I’ve always worried that she

would never be happy again. Dad’s

death robbed her off her smiles

and laughter and I’ve always

wished for her to be happy, and

this was it.

She was moving on from Dad and it

was unfair for me to act like it was

a bad thing.

“I’m sorry for never being home

too,” she added, looking right at

me. “When Charlie died, I could

hardly even force myself to get out

of my bed, and there you were,

taking care of yourself, doing your

chores without anyone telling you

to do them, making friends.

“You did so well in school while I

sat at work, bursting into tears

whenever I find anything that

reminded me of your father.” Her

voice was beginning to crack at a

lot of places, but if she noticed, she

didn’t care. “But you were growing

up so quickly, and I was ashamed

because you were taking his death

a lot better than I was, so I forced

myself to work hard.”

I bit down on my lower lip,

convincing myself that the moisture

in my eyes and the lump in my

throat were simply by-products of

my fever.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” I

told her, surprised that my voice

came out a lot like hers did. I

clenched my fists to control the

shaking of my fingers, as if that

would get rid of the shaking of my

voice. “Not when I knew things

were already hard for the two of

us. But then you started coming

home less, and I just…”