“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Please, go. You don’t have to?—”
“Mom,” I laugh. “It’s fine. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
Hesitation lines her features like she’s not sure if she should laugh with me. I drop her gaze and dust the crumbs off my hands, nonchalant.
“So…you guys hit it off? Last night, after…everything?”
I set my face into a neutral expression, ignoring the way my blood runs cold. The events of last night are not up for discussion.
“Is that why you invited me over? To fish for more details about what happened?” She matches my stare with an unrepentant one of her own. “Because I already told you I’m fine.”
“I won’t apologize for being concerned about your well-being.”
“That isrichcoming from you.”
Her head jerks back. You’d think I offended her, but I can read my mother like a book. It’s not offense. It’s hurt.
The sight softens my indignation. “Mom,” I say evenly. “I’ll make you a deal. You tell me you’re fine and you don’t want me over here or calling to check up on you all the time, and now I’m asking you for the same. If I say I’m fine and I don’t wanna talk about it, then that’s it. You haveto let that be it.”
“Haddy, it’s not the same th?—”
“That’s the deal, Mom.”
Her eyes lock mine in a dare. A challenge to push back, to negotiate the terms.
“I’ll agree on one condition.” I fold my arms and wait for her to continue. “Ifyou’re evernotfine anymore, I want you to promise to tell me.”
My brows furrow. “Mom, if I’m ever not okay you’re always my first call.” She nods. I breathe deep, forcing down my own concern.For her.“Am I yours?”
Her frail hand reaches for mine, the wear and tear of the past eight years evident in the weak grip and pallid skin. “Always, sweetheart.”
“Okay, then.”
We spend a few moments in companionable silence as the heaviness dissolves.
“So,” she finally says around a bite. “Am I allowed to ask about Rowan?”
She tiptoes back into the gray area, chewing at the pace of a sloth. I’d laugh if the situation wasn’t serious.
“Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.” Mom sets her pizza aside and shifts on the couch to face me. “Norm passed away last week.”
Her face twitches in confusion for a moment before she places the name. “Oh no! How?”
“Rowan said it was a heart attack.”
“How does Rowan know?—”
“He’s Norm’s grandson.” I look away, voice dipping. “I met Rowan the night I ran out on my wedding.” I swallow. “He introduced me to Norm.”
Mom tries so hard not to smile, but the sparkle in her eyes can’t be hidden. “Rowan was the one you left with.” Not a question, a hopeful acknowledgment laced with awe. An understanding she’s waited five years to feel. Thatahamoment when the last Tetris piece clicks into position and a tower of barriers falls away.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
Despite the ruined dress, tattered heart, and soul-level ache when I left the next morning, the night of my failed vows was the best night ofmy life. All because of a handsome stranger on a motorcycle who saw me through my worst and introduced me to his grandfather who went on to become one of my favorite people.
Everything about those twelve fateful hours felt like a tiny treasure best kept hidden in my heart, tucked in the corner where the world couldn’t touch it. Because if too many hands gained access to it, the polish might wear off and the magic would be lost forever.
“And the mystery of the Sunday afternoon chess matches with the Golden Boys is finally revealed,” she says with a victorious fist in the air.