Believe Me ✔️

[38] The Truth About Petty Fights

The Next Morning

The sunlight warms my skin as I slowly wake up. I raise my arm as a shield to cover my eyes and I blink around the room, adjusting. I recognize the purple vase and my confusion settles. I'm at Mom's house—still—and I must have fell asleep after our conversation last night, though passed out is more like it because I don't remember how I got to the couch. As I sit up, the soft blanket falls off my legs, and I assume Mom tucked me in last night. My phone's on the coffee table and I lean forward to grab it, checking missed calls and texts from Tyler, Douglas, and Uncle Frank. The smell of sweet coffee fills the room and I'm drawn to it as I make my way into the kitchen. As the coffee maker finishes, I notice a mug already waiting for me on the counter, and as I pour myself a cup I realize it's the same coffee maker Dad got Mom for Christmas four years ago. I check the fridge for any creamer, surprised to see the same Oreo coffee creamer Mom used when she still lived at home. I guess some things never change.

"Good morning," Mom cheers as she walks in, wearing the same gray robe from yesterday, drinking from her own mug. "I made coffee."

"I see," I whisper, gesturing to the creamer as I add it in my coffee. I put it away and take a drink, sitting down at the table. "Smells good."

Mom pours herself a second cup and opens a cabinet and grabs two candy canes from a glass container. She drops one in her cup and one in mine. "That's how you still like it, right?"

I nod, happy she remembered, and I stir my coffee with the candy cane. Mom sits across from me and we stare at each other. Taking a long sip, I watch her carefully and think. It must mean something to keep the same coffee maker your ex-husband gave you to Christmas—years ago, no less—and to drink cup after cup after cup. Is there still love there? I hope so, or at least I'd like to. "Do you still love Dad?" I find myself asking.

Mom starts to nod as she sets her coffee mug down. "Of course I do, Addy."

I don't spare her feelings when I say, "Then why did you cheat on him?"

Her eyes widen for a second before she takes in a deep breath. "I made a mistake, and I regret it every single day. If I could go back and change everything, I would, Addy, but I can't. I have to live with that. I'm sorry that you and Tyler got in the middle of it all."

"We were always in the middle of it all," I mutter, getting angry, and I spit out, "And you didn't even care."

"I always cared, Addy—"

"I tried to kill myself!" I shout, smacking the table, and tears glisten my vision. "After you walked out on us, things got worse, and I tried to kill myself. I was in the hospital for a week and you didn't even check if I was okay! What, you can send a birthday card every year, but can't be bothered to see me in person?"

Mom grabs my hand. "I wanted to see you, Addy, but your father didn't want me to! He thought it would make things worse if you saw me in your current state. So, yes I knew and I cared, but I respected your father's wishes and stayed away. I wanted to see you so many times, but when our divorce finalized, I lost custody and I couldn't do a damn thing about it."

I avoid eye contact. All these years, I thought Mom stopped caring about me. When she never visited me in the hospital, I thought that was it, that I hadn't earned her love anymore. "I'm sorry," I whisper, a little embarrassed, and change the subject. "Do you miss Dad?"

"All the time," She answers with a sad smile. "Every single morning when I wake up alone. It's lonely in this small house, but I-I deserve it. Well, your father visits sometimes, checks up on me—"

"Wait, what?" I interrupt, wondering if I heard her right. "Dad visits you? Like he comes and sees you and actually talks to you?"

Mom nods. "Doubtful, isn't it? I thought I was going crazy when I first saw him on my doorstep."