Make You Miss Me by B. Celeste

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Can I ask you something?” My fingers drop from the necklace and settle into my lap.

Mom turns to me from where she’s folding laundry. “Of course. What is it?”

I twist my fingers together, glance outside one more time, and listen to the chirping birds on the willow planted in the front lawn before turning back to my mother’s patient face. “How did you know ending things with dad was what was best? I know you never talk about it, but I want to know. Did you think about staying? Trying to help him more even though he refused it at first?”

The shirt in her hands is lowered back into the basket, clearly surprised by the question posed. We never talk about that. Ever. She’d told me before that she didn’t want to drag me into the relationship drama between her and my dad, and I could appreciate that, but now it was time. Long overdue, maybe. “I thought maybe the reason you were so quiet was because of that man. Fletcher, right?”

I don’t answer. Can’t.

She abandons the clothes yet to be folded and walks over to the love seat I’m sitting on, patting my knee before I draw it up and hug my knees to my chest. Sitting where my feet were, she lets out a long, heavy sigh before looking at me. “When you didn’t pick up some of your father’s and my calls, we wondered if you were okay. But you’ve always been the type to need your space, so we tried giving it to you. Worst few weeks of our lives, sweetheart. Knowing we couldn’t help you and whatever it was that was happening. It was like… Hunter all over again.”

I let out a choked laugh that makes Mom frown at me. “You could say that. But honestly, can you tell me what was going through your mind? What made you decide what you did?”

“You.”

Her instant answer makes me blink.

Her hand reaches out and cups mine, weaving our fingers together. “I saw how it was impacting you, and that’s how I made my choice. It didn’t matter how much your dad’s poor decisions were breaking my heart, but I refused to let it break yours. He may not have been a mean drunk, but he was a drunk, nonetheless. I knew he was a good man, is a good man, but I couldn’t keep him in our lives if it meant making you witness him unravel. That isn’t the influence you needed in your life. You needed stability.”

How could it be that easy? “I don’t remember you ever being that upset over it when he moved out…”

“Oh, honey.” Her smile is sad, and her eyes even sadder. “Every night after you went to bed, I’d sit in here and cry. Once, I thought you caught me when you snuck downstairs to get a snack. I never wanted you to see me like that and blame him for it. He was sick and he needed help. Only he could decide when to seek it. There was nothing me or you could have done beyond supporting him when he made that decision.”

We’re quiet for a while before I feel her fingers tighten around mine. “Stevie, what happened? You seemed so happy, so much happier than you had been in years. At first, I was worried. Like any mother would be. No parent wants to see their daughter hurt, especially not twice. But the way you beamed no matter what you did, the smile that went right to your eyes when it hadn’t in so, so long, it seemed like…” Her words fade as she makes a face and brushes off her hesitation. “You may not want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway. It seemed like this Fletcher guy was giving you the kind of happiness, the pure love, that Hunter never could. I’d see you smile and laugh with Hunter when you talked about him too, but nothing like this man has done for you. He brought you back to life. He…he brought back my baby girl.”

Emotion crams itself into my windpipe, making it hard to say anything to that.

Her eyes get glassy. “I know how that must sound, but it’s true. Until the end, I had nothing against Hunter. I thought you were both too young to get married, but you made it work. You loved each other to some degree, but nothing like you clearly feel, or felt, with Fletcher. That must mean something. So, what happened? Did he do something? Hurt you? Because you know your father and me won’t let—”

“No,” I tell her, almost sad I cut her off before hearing what type of threat she was willing to make against my neighbor. She’d never even threatened to do anything bad to Hunter, and that says something. Dad, on the other hand… “I mean, yes, Fletcher hurt me. But the thing is, the more I have time to think about why he did what he did or didn’t do what he should have, I sort of understand.”

Mom looks lost.

“It’s hard to explain.” And frankly, I have no intention of telling her about Hunter’s infidelity. What’s done is done. I’ve accepted it over the past couple of weeks, went through the phases of grief, and realized there was nothing I could do. It left me thinking about why Fletcher kept quiet about it. Why he chose not to tell me. I don’t want to understand, to get it, but I do. “It doesn’t really matter what led up to this because there isn’t any way for me to change it. All I’ll say is that it involved Hunter and something Fletcher kept from me about him.”

Mom’s eyes narrow. “Why would Fletcher keep anything from you about your ex-husband?”

I hold my breath for a second before blowing it out. “Because Fletcher was Hunter’s commanding officer. I’ve met him before but never knew him well. So, moving in across the street from him was…a shock to say the least.”

When her jaw drops at the new information I’ve held back all this time, I decide to tell her everything. The hesitancy. The fear. The doubt. Every little thing that made me respect the man that, to this day, despite everything, I love.

I do.

I love Fletcher.

And that’s probably the most frustrating part of this because I feel like I shouldn’t. Like it’s wrong to.

“You still keep in contact with Dad, see him all the time. You cook for him and even sometimes go over and clean. Do you…” I meet her eyes, and it’s clear to me she knows what I’m going to ask before I say it. “Do you still love him? Even after all this time has passed?”

She folds my hand in between both of hers and smiles warmly at me. “No matter what your father has done, what he’s gone through, I remind myself that he did the work to get better. He put in the effort to prove to me he was worth loving. So, yes, Stevie. I love your father very, very much.”

Those words… I let out a tiny breath like I’ve been waiting for her to tell me that since the day they were officially divorced. “Are you guys back together?”

Her smile grows. “Yeah. We decided a while ago that it was time. Well past when it should have happened. Our love had to be put on pause until we got our bearings, but it never went away. In fact, I think it got stronger when we were separated because it put things into perspective.”

“What perspective was that?”

“That second chances don’t always work out for some people, but when they do, it’s even better than the first chance you were given because you learned from those mistakes.” My hand twitches in hers. “I won’t ask you to give me all the details, but from what you’ve told me, Fletcher loves you very much and didn’t want to force your hand at this relationship. He wanted you to be all in because you wanted to be. Because you love him too.”

I stare down at her hands and let a minute pass. Then another. A third. Mom gives me the time to think, process until I close my eyes and let my hair fall over my shoulders.

Loving Fletcher was never the question. It was wondering if loving him as much as I did in the amount of time I’ve known him was sane. It was worrying if the torn apart feeling of being away from him would go away like I desperately wanted to. Because if it did, if distance mended the hole in my chest left behind, then it wasn’t love at all.

I guess I knew better than that.

“If you think about it,” Mom adds quietly, “it’s very romantic what he did. He was willing to sacrifice you if you decided he wasn’t enough. He was trying to shield you from getting hurt again by the same man, and even if he ended up hurting you in the process by trying to protect you from it, he was willing. It sounds like the patience he has, the effort he’s given every single day to let you take your time, proves just how much this thing between you two is the real deal.”

My fingers wrap around the necklace again, absorbing each word carefully.

She says, “You never took it off.”

My grip tightens around the item she’s referring to. “No, I didn’t.”

Mom hums, extending her hand and examining the gold band on it. “I never took my wedding ring off either after all these years.”