“You’ve never been plain,” I cut in. I couldn’t imagine the vibrant, strong woman who taught me everything as anything other than a beacon of hope and love.
“Thank you.” She smiled and then paused for another deep breath. “It wasn’t always the way you experienced it when you were young, but the signs were always there. I just ignored them because the closer I got to the end of college, the closer I got to going back to the restrictions of my hometown, and I didn’t want to. By the time the signs became too big to ignore, I had you, and I somehow needed to make it work. My mother passed away a couple years before, and I had nowhere else to go. He controlled everything, and I figured if I could just bide my time, I could keep him calm, and it would all work out in the end. Then he hurt you, and it was too much.”
She looked away before turning back with watery eyes. Hating to watch her cry, I reached between us and held her hand in mine, squeezing tightly.
“I’m so sorry, Raelynn. I should have been stronger. I should have walked away at the first sign. I regret not leaving sooner. I regret ignoring the signs. I regret so much, but I can’t regret that it happened because he gave me you, and you are worth everything.”
“Mom.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and holding hands wasn’t enough. Rolling to my side, I clutched my arms around her and buried my head against her shoulder just like I did as a little girl. “You don’t ever need to apologize. You did the best you could, and look at us now. Two bitches crying in a mansion, drinking high-class vodka you stowed away in a closet.”
As intended, we both laughed through our tears, wiping them away like we always did.
“Did…did Austin hurt you?”
Just like that, the reprieve the laughter offered vanished. Now it was her turn to ask questions and my turn to talk.
“No.” I rolled to my back. “Not physically. Actually, not at all,” I confessed with a sad laugh. “I set it all up. It’s me hurting both of us.”
“Rae…”
“I just…I always said I wouldn’t get married. Even as a girl. I used it as a mantra to build a foundation of my character, and somewhere along the way, it became all I knew. I didn’t even question it. It was just who I was.”
“Until him.”
“Until him,” I agreed. “Until he made it feel wrong to not be with him. Until telling him over and over again that I didn’t want to be his wife felt…wrong. The whole time I filled out the paperwork for our divorce, my body shook. I assumed it was because I was nervous of losing his friendship, but it was like I had to force myself to do it. Like my body was trying to tell me how wrong it was, but my mind was too conditioned to hear it. I was too focused on the mantra.”
“And now?”
“And now I’ve lost him completely.”
“Do you love him?”
“I’ve always loved him.”
“Rae,” she chided my easy answer. “Do you love him?”
I closed my eyes to focus on the thudding in my chest. I listened to the useless organ pumping pulse after pulse of pain through my veins. I hated it. But I had to be honest about why it hurt so damn much.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you want to be his wife?”
I cringed over the word. My mind gagged while my heart jumped an extra beat.
“Okay, we’ll come back to that one,” my mom said, reading my face. “Do you think he’d hurt you?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “No. Even in the moment of justified anger with other people, he always remained calm. Just a little mouthy.”
When Mom didn’t respond, I peeked out the corner of my eye to find the are-you-fucking-kidding-me stare she perfected just for me. “I know someone else who’s a little mouthy too.”
“Nonsense,” I denied.
“Pfft.”
I’d heard that sound so many times I didn’t even need to look to know an eye roll came with it.
“So, don’t answer if you want to be his wife,” she said, moving on. “Sometimes making a decision isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you can’t live without. It’s easy to walk away from something when you’re surrounded by pain and confusion.”
“What if nothing feels right?” I asked.
“Rarely does any decision feel all good or all bad. So, instead of focusing on the pain right now and doing whatever you need to get away from it, ask yourself if you can live without ever calling him on the phone again. Can you live without your Bachelor marathons together? Can you live without meeting up to share disgusting ice cream together? Can you live without dancing with him again? Can you live without holding his hand? Can you live without kissing him—without ever waking up next to him ever again?”