MOMMY ISSUES | Tamber

27

The night wrapped around Tara like a heavy cloak, its darkness mirroring the weight on her shoulders. She lay on Sam's worn-out couch, her body still and her face obscured by the cushions, as if seeking solace in their familiar embrace.

A groan, raw and filled with anguish, escaped her lips, breaking the silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. In the kitchen, the clatter of dishes paused, and Sam appeared in the doorway, her concern etched on her face.

"Hey," Sam's voice was gentle, but laced with worry. "You know, part of being best friends means not leaving the other to pick up the pieces alone every time life throws a curveball."

Tara didn't respond, her silence a heavy presence in the room. Sam sighed softly, crossing the room to sit beside her sister. She placed a comforting hand on Tara's shoulder, a silent gesture of support.

"Come on, Tara," Sam urged gently. "Talk to me. I can't even begin to imagine what fresh hell Amber's put you through, but keeping it bottled up won't help either of you."

Tara lifted her head slowly, revealing tear-streaked cheeks and eyes filled with pain. "Amber... I r-ruined her, Sam," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "By loving her too much, by expecting too much of her capacity for--" She choked on her words, unable to continue.

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, her concern deepening. "I'm not sure I follow. What do you mean?"

Tara took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "This... this is so far beyond her cruelty or my delusions," she explained. "This is -- my cross to bear after everything I've--"

"Tara, don't even try to justify or rationalize her reprehensible behavior toward you," Sam interjected firmly. "Not again. I won't let you. I told you years ago to divorce her, remember?"

Tara's voice was barely a whisper. "She's the mother of my--"

"Step-mother, Tara," Sam corrected gently. "Your step-mother. Don't ever forget whose body grew that incredible little person you call yours... who did all the hard work and made all the sacrifices."

A faint, sad smile tugged at Tara's lips as she nodded faintly, resting a hand on her abdomen instinctively.

"And I'll tell you the same thing again, for the thousandth time if I have to," Sam continued adamantly. "You did not 'ruin' Amber. She's the one who made her own choices and shitty mistakes."

Despair washed over Tara once more, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. Sam watched her sister unraveling, her heart aching with empathy.

"Sam... I ruined her," Tara repeated, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Stop telling me that," Sam's tone was fierce now, filled with frustration. "At some point, you're gonna have to stop being so stubbornly delusional."

Tara's laughter was hollow, devoid of any humor. "Where d'you think she is now? With Avana."

Sam's lips pressed into a grim line, troubled thoughts clouding her eyes. She didn't voice the rest of her unspoken question: And you just... let her take your daughter from you?

Instead, she continued to massage Tara's shoulder, offering silent solidarity and support. They sat together in the dimly lit room, the weight of their shared pain binding them together, even as the world outside carried on, oblivious to their silent struggle.