Motherless

42

Talia

Friday Evening

Home felt... different today.

Not because anything looked out of place. The same soft lights were on in the hallway. The same vanilla candle Mom always lit on Fridays still burned faintly in the kitchen. The same throw blanket was folded on the arm of the couch.

But something was cracked open.

Me.

I hadn't said much on the ride home. Just stared out the window while the school day replayed behind my eyes like a movie I didn't want to watch anymore.

Mom didn't push. She just drove, hand resting gently on mine the whole way.

Now we were in my room, sitting on the edge of my bed. The curtains were drawn. The air conditioner hummed in the window. And I finally exhaled for what felt like the first time all day.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, for the hundredth time.

Mom shook her head. "You've already said that. And I've already told you... I'm not angry."

I looked down at my hands. They were red from scrubbing. My knuckles still stung. "You should be."

She reached over and cupped my cheek. "Talia. I've never stopped loving you. Not for one second. Even when you were shut off. Even when you were hurting and didn't let me in. I love all of you. Even the parts you think are too messy."

Her lip trembled. Just a little. But she didn't cry.

She never cried when she was supposed to. Only when she thought no one would see.

She leaned her head against my shoulder, and we stayed there for a while. Just breathing. Just... existing.

After a minute, she whispered, "I think I want to take a shower."

I nodded gently. "Okay, mi amor."

She stood slowly, like she was wearing weights. She hesitated by the door, fingers twitching at her sleeves.

"Wait," I said, standing too. "Before you go."

She paused.

I crossed the room and stopped just in front of her, placing my hands on her arms. "I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest."

Her eyes darted away.

"I won't be angry," I said softly. "This isn't about punishment. This is about knowing how to take care of you."

She stayed quiet.

"I want you to show me," I said. "Where you've been hurting yourself."

Her shoulders stiffened instantly. Her whole body turned inward like she was folding into herself. "No."

"Talia—"

"No," she said again, backing up. "Don't. Please don't ask me that."

My chest ached, but I kept my voice steady. "I already know. I've known for a while."

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. "Did someone—did someone tell you?"

I didn't flinch. I didn't even blink. "No," I said gently. "No one told me anything. I saw it in how you moved. How careful you were. The long sleeves. The flinching. The way you started avoiding mirrors."

Talia's hands curled into fists. "I didn't want you to know."

I stepped forward again and took her hands in mine, slowly unfolding them. "I know. You were trying to protect me. But, baby, it's my job to carry the heavy things with you. You don't have to carry it alone."