Cyrus raised his hand, cupping Tertia’s face tenderly as if she weren’t known for her iciness. For her part, his wife leaned into his touch, a soft whimper escaping her. River had never heard her mother make that kind of sound before, never even known she was capable of it.
The hard lines of Tertia’s face softened, and her lips… slid up.
By the Obsidian Sands, River couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother appear relaxed, let alone smile.
For the longest moment, River’s parents stared into each other’s eyes. Neither of them seemed to remember that she was even there, and they had entire wordless conversations in the span of a few seconds.
Love and emotion radiated off them. River never would’ve believed that her mother was capable of such a thing if she hadn’t witnessed it. Cyrus, yes. She knew her father loved her and Ryker. She’d always known that, even when she was a little girl before he got sick.
But Tertia…
River had never seen her mother like this. Not one single time. Not even when Cyrus had spoken during Brynleigh’s introduction to the family.
When River was younger, she used to believe that her mother was incapable of love. That Tertia was cold and heartless, lacking the part of her soul that would allow her to feel emotions like the rest of them.
She’d told Ryker as much when she was eight. Her brother had wrapped his arms around her and drawn her into his lap, squeezing tightly.
“Mother loves us, Shortie,” he assured her in that confident way of his. “She just doesn’t know how to show it properly.”
But as she watched her parents now, River came to the sickening realization that her brother had been wrong. Tertia possessed the ability to love. The proof was right in front of her, and she couldn’t ignore it.
More than that, Tertia knew how toshowher love. It was evident in every whispered word, every delicate kiss she pressed to her husband’s cheeks, and in every tear shimmering in her eyes.
No, the awful truth was that River’s mother knew how tolove. She knew how to properly care for someone. She knew how to show it in all the right ways.
She just didn’t show River because…
Because…
Because she didn’t love River.
The realization was a sharp dagger, slicing through skin and bone and sinking into River’s heart. It embedded itself deeper and deeper, until she knew she’d never get it out. Never be the same again.
Why? Why did Tertia hate her so much? What had River ever done to deserve this fate on top of the burden she already bore?
Her father said she wasn’t cursed, but this was proof that she was. Why else would her own mother hate her?
As much as Cyrus had just begged River not to call herself cursed, she knew she couldn’t stop…
Just as she knew her mother would never love her.
River forced herself to look away from her parents. She clenched her fists, her nails carving half-moons into her palms. The pain was good. It reminded her that she was alive, that even though her mother hated her, she was still here.
A sob tried climbing up her throat, and she choked it back. Fresh tears flooded her eyes, but these ones were different from the others. Born of grief and anger, isolation and loneliness, they were hot, stinging needles.
They formed for herself, for the endless suffering she’d endured over the years from a loveless relationship with her mother, but also, for what could’ve been. In another life, in another world, she could’ve had a mother who cared about her. Who loved her.
Instead, what did she have? A cold woman whochosenot tolove her only daughter. Whochoseto leave her alone. Whochosenot to care about her.
Gods above. There wasn’t enough therapy in the world to deal with this. River hoped Eliza was ready for her, because she would be filling every available appointment the therapist had from now until the end of time.
In the years after the Incident, River had been desperate for attention, love, and comfort. She’d yearned for someone to tell her that she wasn’t a monster, that she was more than just a bringer of death.
She had spent an incalculable number of nights crying alone, waking from never-ending nightmares. Her brother had been there for her as much as he could be, but he’d been dealing with the fallout from her storm. She wasn’t a fool; she knew how much that had taken from him. Ryker had done everything he could for her, and she’d never be able to fully repay him for the sacrifices he’d made in her name.
He was an amazing brother, the best she ever could’ve asked for. She’d never hold it against him that he hadn’t been able to do more, hadn’t been able to give her the love she needed.
It wasn’t Ryker’s job to love her like a parent.