Page 155 of Never After Us
“I know,” she whispers.“And I’m so sorry you had to find this way—after she died.”
“Mom,” I say after a long moment, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.“I don’t know how to forgive everything yet.”
“You don’t have to,” she replies quietly.“Not today.Not soon.Just let me sit with you while you figure it out.That’s all I’m asking.”
“I can do that,” I agree.“She left you a trust by the way.”
She waves a hand.“I don’t need her money.I just wish she had told me how bad things were before it was too late.”
“It was a?—”
“She had a heart condition,” Mom says.“It should be in one of the letters she left you.”
“I haven’t read them.”
“You should.”
“I will when I’m ready.”
...But ready should probably be now.
ChapterSixty-Four
My sweet girl,
I don’t knowwhen you’ll read this.Maybe years from now.Maybe weeks.I hope much, much later.My heart has been failing quietly for years, and I’m running out of “laters” and “somedays.”So I’m writing this now, while I still have the clarity to speak honestly.
There are things I should have said to you long ago.Things I was afraid of telling you because ...I didn’t know if you’d reject me for giving you up.
I did it because I love you more than anything in the world, and I believed that Laura would care for you in ways that I would never be able to at the age of sixteen.
I was sad, broken, and too immature to be a mother.
Laura was ready for you.She did her best and loved you the way you deserve.Please don’t be mad at her for not telling you the truth.
I don’t know if I will ever get the timing right, but I need you to know this:
You were never a burden on any life you touched.Not mine.Not your mother’s.Not anyone’s.
If anything, you were the reason I kept fighting for longer than the doctors expected.
If you’re reading this, and I’m gone, I hope you feel surrounded by more love than confusion.That was always my wish for you.
Always,
Lina
ChapterSixty-Five
My little wanderer,
I hada dream about you last night.
You were on a beach somewhere I’ve never seen, holding Mila’s hand, laughing so loudly the birds scattered.I woke up with an ache that made me want to reach for you, wishing I wasn’t alone.
I regret not telling you who I was or that I love you more than anything in the world.It’s too late, and that’s okay.I leave knowing that even when things sometimes don’t work the way you expected, you make them work.
You are a mother now.I’ve always admired the way you built a life out of movement and light, even when it came from places I couldn’t give you.I’ve watched you love that child with a fierceness I recognize because I’ve carried it in my own chest for over thirty years.
