Maybe Matt's Miracle (The Reed Brothers 4)

“I haven’t forgiven you,” I bite out.

She laughs. It startles me, and I grip the arms of the chair so tightly my knuckles turn white. “If you forgave me just after a conversation, I would think that you were weak and tired. And you are neither of those things, Sky. You are strong and brave, and you love without restraint. I wish I could be more like you.” She chuckles. “I’m planning to be more like you. I have some things I need to work through, but I’m getting there.”

“What’s it like being sober?” I blurt out. Yeah, I want to hurt her, but she deserves it.

“Hard,” she says. She takes a drag of her cigarette and stubs it out. “Really hard. Everything hurts. Every memory. Every thought in my head hurts because it’s all full of regret. I have regrets, Sky. I regret everything. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. I know you don’t trust me, and honestly, I don’t trust myself. So, if you want to walk out of here and not look back, I understand.”

She sits quietly, starting into the far recesses of the garden.

“I’d like to meet your kids,” she says.

I start to protest.

She holds up a hand. “Not right now. When I’ve earned the right. I’d like to meet them and get to know them. It’s sad what happened to their mother. She was a good woman.”

“How would you know?” I toss out.

“I met her a few times. We would get together for lunch. One time, I got drunk over a martini or ten at our lunch, and she took me home in her car. I didn’t use my driver because I didn’t want him to tell your father where I was going.”

“What happened?” I whisper.

“She was good and kind. She took me home and held my head over the toilet. Then she cleaned me up. She tucked me into bed, and she apologized for her mother ruining my marriage.” She chuckles. “But what she didn’t know was that her mother didn’t ruin anything. I did. I ruined all of it. I refused to let love in. And I refused to let it because I wasn’t worthy.”

I can’t even speak.

“When I found out she was dying, I went to her. She talked to me about the kids and her fears. She cried. I cried. I went home and told your father what happened, and I told him that he should ask you to help. That you had more love inside you than anyone I’d ever met, and that those kids would be lucky to have you. Then I went and got stinking drunk and almost killed myself on pain pills. Because giving you those kids meant I had to give up my hatred of them. I couldn’t stomach that. Your father helped me through the night. Then I did it again after the funeral. Your dad had to call 9-1-1.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” My foot starts to twitch again.

“Would you have cared?” She stares into my face. “You might have felt a moment of displeasure, but you would have gotten over it quickly. I wasn’t worth more than a passing thought to anyone, and I’d set it up that way myself.” She shrugs.

I sniff back my indignation. “I would have cared.”

She snorts again. “I would have been your mother that died. The woman who gave birth to you and then didn’t do anything else for you your whole life.”

Damn, that hurts to think about. But she’s right.

“Your dad says you have a boyfriend,” she says and smiles.

I nod. “Matthew,” I tell her. She doesn’t deserve the details.

“The one with the tattoos,” she says. “He’s very handsome.”

“He’s good and kind,” I correct. Then I smile, because thinking of him brings it out in me. “And handsome.”

“Do you love him?” she asks.

I nod my head. “As much as I know about love,” I say. “If I have to say yes or no, I say yes. But I’m not completely sure what that means.”

“I’m sorry we made you doubt yourself so much. You’re worth so much more.” She swipes a hand beneath her nose. “We were terrible examples.”

“I don’t trust him with my heart,” I admit. “I’m terrified to love him.”

“Afraid he’ll turn on you?” she asks. “Or that he’ll walk away?”

“Or that he’ll love me till the end of time,” I say. That’s just as scary because I don’t know what to do with it.

“You should look into some Al-Anon meetings,” she says. “They’re for families of addicts.”

“Okay,” I say.

She taps my leg. “For you,” she says. “Not for me.”

She lights a new cigarette. I raise my brow at her.

She laughs. “I’ve never felt quite so exposed. It’s a new and scary feeling. So, forgive me my vices. I’ll quit when I get through this.”

“Okay.” I understand. I think.

“Don’t be afraid to let him love you, Sky,” she says quietly. “I was afraid to let your dad love me. I didn’t think I deserved it after things I did when I was drinking. So I shut him out. Let Matthew in. Let him love you. Take it all in and let it seep into your bones. Don’t let it go. If he breaks your heart, at least you’ll know you still have one. Don’t die inside like me. Let love in. Let it surround you and keep you on your feet when you can’t go anymore. Let. Love. In.”

The doors to the patio open, and a nurse comes out. “It’s time for group,” she says, motioning toward my mother.