Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 52 ' Tethered Connection.

We're downstairs, in the hospital's restaurant. Sitting opposite one another and doing nothing but staring at each other. She has this absent, faraway look in her eyes like she's still processing what she heard. The same distance that was in her voice when she asked me to come with her.

I'm overcome with anxiety, wondering what's going through her head. All I see as I look at her is exhaustion and weariness, obvious from her roughly packed hair and eye bags. Those . . . when did she develop those? I've never seen her with bags. Never seen her with lips so dry.

The distinct feeling of pain tugs, but for the first time since I've started to feel it, I don't let it get to me. I cast aside the feeling of guilt as soon as it comes, dropping my eyes to the table.

"Do you know?"

Wondering when she snapped out of her reverie, I ask back, "Do I know what?"

She looks at me hesitatingly for a few seconds and swallows. "It was never my plan to have a child."

My stomach heaves. "Okay."

"Because I thought—" she looks past the glass walls and unto the road, "I believed I couldn't take good care of one, that I was someone who wouldn't be a good mother.

"I've always been so scared. From the moment I conceived you, a fear just . . . settled. A fear that I would be a bad mother like I had always thought and . . . " Her eyes leave the road to land on mine, and I fight the urge to drop my gaze to the table. "I was scared of making mistakes, and one would think that would've helped me be a better mother, but it did the opposite. That fear made me do all the things a mother shouldn't do."

You're okay though.

Something about the tears pulled beneath her eyes pushes me to speak. "You know what I just thought? That you're okay. I don't think you're a bad mother. You're pretty good, I dare say."

A drop slid down her cheek. "I left you as a child."

I start to shake my head. "I didn't feel—" I stop, swallow. "My point remains."

"I can't believe . . . what was I doin—" she looks so befuddled I start to pity her. "I can't even— right now, I can't . . . I don't understand how my thought process must've gone for me to have—"

"Believed Bella? Well, I'll excuse that. She's a great liar and—"

"Yesmi." She gasps. "There is no need for you to go easy on me at all. It makes me feel worse—"

"But you went easy on me." I sniff and blink back tears. "Even when you believed I did those things, you didn't really . . . hold it against me." I look longingly at her. "And it's not like I made it easy for you to believe otherwise."

"Yesmi."

"Ma."

Another drop slides down her other cheek. "Stop. In the first place, I shouldn't have even believed—"

"I should've been more open with you—"

"I! should've done things differently!" she doesn't shout, but her words are heavy with emotions.

"Me too." I nod, blinking furiously, trying to stop more tears from slipping out. "Me too. You know after everything," there is a break, a pause in which I look down, take a deep breath, look up to her again, "I saw so many things. Realised so many things I should've done differently. I was stupid for the most part, mommy."

"Because I wasn't there to guide like I should've been." Another set of teardrops slid out. "I wasn't holding you close like I should've been."

"What do you mean? You were great. You were everything. I didn't want to leave because I knew I would've missed you."