Page 75 of Blinding Lights

“What?” Her words freeze me in place, and from the sympathy in her expression, I’d wager that was her intention. “That’s not what happened.” I stand abruptly, running a hand through my hair. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s not what I think; it’s what I know. You distanced yourself to protect us all. Atlas included. But you did it after I was hurt. Am I wrong?”

“Yes. No. Jesus, Mom. I don’t know. Have you been carrying that around all this time?”

“No, of course not.” She shakes her head until my expression tightens and she sighs. “A little,” she admits. “But it’s okay. I’m your mom. I’m supposed to⁠—”

“You’re not supposed to do anything. God, I’m sorry. I never meant⁠—”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’ve never blamed you for my feelings.” She steps closer, reaching out her hand, but I shake her off.

“You should. If you’ve been holding on to that guilt, you should be blaming me.”

“Sit down, please.” Mom’s voice rises as she sits down and points to the empty space beside her, and I sit next to her without argument. “I never wanted you to pull back because of what happened to me. You’ve always played it down when we’ve talked about it, but did you really think I wouldn’t notice how much it affected you?”

“No.” My voice cracks as I clench my hands into fists. “I never once deluded myself. I knew my actions wouldn’t go unnoticed, but we talked about it and⁠—”

“I let you do what you had to do for your own sanity. You were already holding on to so much guilt because of your father. I couldn’t let you take on any more. Football makes you happy. Yes, you were guarded and sometimes dealt a bad hand, especially in your last few seasons with the Cougars. But every time I saw your play, your smile made it easier to take. Doesn’t mean I haven’t been worried.”

She reaches for my hand again, and this time I let her take it, while I stare down at the connection. “Why bring it up now? How come you’ve never mentioned that before?”

“Because I didn’t think you were ready.”

“And that’s changed because…”

“You’ve changed. It’s so subtle I’m not sure you’ve even noticed it yourself.”

I have. Not that I admit that. She’s right, though. Something has changed. I feel different. And I’m in Clairmont when I’m supposed to be at practice in San Francisco.

My head spins and when I don’t respond, Mom continues on with her Beckett analysis.

“Are you worried about Henley because of what happened to me?” she asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Of course I am. He got drunk and married her in Vegas, for God’s sake. What if he gets drunk again and does something else? What if she’s thrust into the spotlight because of their relationship and harassed like you were? What if someone hurts her?”

The corners of Mom’s mouth drop, and her brows furrow as silence falls around us.

“Is this really about Henley and Atlas?” she asks after a beat too long, catching me off guard.

“What?”

“Henley said something about Lily after you left yesterday and⁠—”

“Jesus.” I drop my face in my hands as images of Mom and Henley somersault through my head before morphing to form the most beautiful being I’ve ever encountered. I see dusty-rose cheeks shining with freckles, smooth lips painted with the faintest gloss, blue eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. I see Lily. She’s beaming with happiness that I refuse to take away from her. “I can’t hurt them, Mom. I can’t be the reason their lives change when they’ve already got so much going on.”

“You like her?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

“No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t change a thing. We first kissed on Halloween. Then again after the wedding. We had an incredible connection, one that I didn’t think was possible. Yet, when she told me she wanted out, I was relieved. I think I’m falling in love with her and I was relieved. What does that say about me?”

“I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Oh, Beckett. You can’t always be there to protect someone. Even if you weren’t a football star. You never know what the future will bring.”