It was an interruption, but it had to be said. “I want to see you more often too.”
“Then get out your calendar once you’re home, and we’ll schedule some visits.” With a tender hand against his cheek, she urged his head from her shoulder. “Now let’s talk about Jimmy.”
At the sound of that monster’s name, Alex flinched.
But his mother’s eyes met his directly. Her brow was clear, her body relaxed. She didn’t look scared or ashamed. Just … sad. For him, which was so like her he could have cried again.
“If I’d known how you felt, I’d have said this years ago. But I’m saying it now, and I want you to listen closely, Alexander Bernard Woodroe.” Her palms cupping his face, she enunciated each word distinctly. “You are not and have never been selfish. You didn’t notice his abuse because we kept it from you, baby. I was too scared and ashamed to say anything, and Jimmy wanted to isolate me, so he encouraged more distance between us.”
When he tried to protest, she spoke over him. “You weren’t my keeper, and you weren’t an expert on domestic violence. You were a young man with a life of his own and goals of his own, and I wanted that for you. I wanted you to have your own life.”
Lauren had said almost the exact same thing to him, only days before.
The two women he loved most in the world, the two women he trusted most in the world, the two women who never, ever lied to him, were telling him the exact same thing.
He exhaled shakily, his heart uncramping just a little in his aching chest.
His mother swept a thumb over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.
“I didn’t work so damn hard all those years to keep you by my side forever. I did it so you’d grow up strong and smart. So you’d have the chance to elbow your way into the world and make it yours.” Her lips tipped up in a smile, even though her eyes were wet again. “Which is exactly what you did, Alex, and it makes me so freaking proud. Of you, but of me too. I’m your mom, and I raised you to be a hard worker and a good man, and that’s precisely what you are.”
It didn’t sound like a platitude or false comfort.
It sounded like truth, as his mom saw it.
“So let me be clear.” She shook his face a little in emphasis. “It would break my heart to watch you give up your life and career for me. It’s not what I want, and it’s not necessary. I’m an adult and perfectly able to care for myself and ask for help if I need it.”
He pinched his mouth tight, loath to speak the words that sprang to mind.
Even without those words, his mother correctly read his expression. “Yes, I know. I didn’t ask for help when I needed it before. But it’s been eleven years, Alex, and I’m not the same person I was then.”
For the first time, he could clearly see that.
Still, he hesitated. “If you need help, you’ll tell me?”
“Yes.” Her gaze was direct, her voice confident and sure. “I promise.”
His head suddenly lighter on his shoulders, he found himself able to smile at her. “Pinkie swear?”
She laughed, and he did too, and they clasped pinkies, as they’d done to seal vows all through his childhood.
After one last kiss on his forehead, his mother sat back in her chair and picked up her spoon again. “I’m going to eat my oatmeal, then make you some new toast. While I do all that, you can tell me what happened with Lauren.”
His smile died, and he slumped over the table.
Dammit, his mother had always, always been too smart for him. He hadn’t successfully snuck out of their apartment once.
“I watched you two together when I called the other night.” Her spoon clacked against the bowl as she scooped up a bite. “From what I saw, she cares for you very much, and you obviously love her. So why are you here, heartbroken and alone?”
She chewed her breakfast, the silver streaks in her hair glinting in the sun, utterly patient. Utterly relentless.
He might as well answer. She’d browbeat it out of him at some point anyway.
“I have no goddamn idea what happened.” He couldn’t help the bitterness in his tone. “In the middle of the wedding reception, Lauren said she had to return to her real life and her real job, thanked me for my kindness and friendship, and caught a cab for the airport. I haven’t heard from her since.”
Of course, he hadn’t contacted her either, but she was the one who’d left, not him.
“That’s odd.” Lines scored across his mother’s forehead, and she tapped her spoon against the surface of her oatmeal. “Did something happen at the wedding?”