Wounded; A Brallie Fan Fiction *EDITING*

Chapter Twenty-Three: Mothers and Daughters

Callie's POV
Lately, I'd been thinking a lot about Lena. She'd been so nervous recently, and so hostile about me and Brandon. She kept her eyes on me at all times, even if I wasn't with Brandon.

And - and I wondered if she was traumatized somehow. I wondered if what happened to me had scarred her in was she could move past or rise above. And something she said to me in the hospital, it rang in my ears every time I thought about Lena and her sad eyes.

'The love I have for you as a mother is the kind of love that never goes away,' her melancholy voice had echoed in my head from time to time.

And so I rationalized with Lena, as my mother, and I thought closely about what she's been through. Every one of her children except Jude has been in danger before. And I think she needed something to hold onto all those months ago, and that's why she wanted a baby of her own.

We all thought Lena had gotten pregnant for the wrong reasons. But my word, she was so happy, and that was what mattered most. Looking back now, it was a mirage, a blur of her wild curls and glowing smile upon her ebony skin, with a slight baby bump to match.

And when she lost the baby, I don't know what that did to her. None of us did, none of us ever would, not even Mom. The most we could do was be there for her and understand her.

So that's what I was trying to do now.

The house was quiet, and everybody was in bed. Except Lena. She was downstairs reading over the new dress code for Anchor Beach's upcoming school year, when she looked up and saw me entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Callie," she said, squinting at me with concern. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep," I lied as I sat down next to her.

"Is everything okay?"

I sat up straight, fiddling anxiously with my thumbs in my lap. "Well actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Lena pinched her eyebrows together and closed the folder that she had been focusing so intently on before I came in. She propped her chin up in her palms and nodded at me.

I looked at Lena with admiration. She had flawless complexion and a radiant smile that made me feel warm and safer than I'd ever been. Even now, in her roomy pajamas with bags under her eyes, she still looked remarkable.

And I think it was the mother in her that made me see her that way. I began to wish I was hers, biologically; not because she was beautiful, but because I wanted to have the same loving, open-hearted appeal that she did, and because I wanted her to know that she connected to me.

"I wanted to know . . . " I began, staring at the wooden floors beneath my bare feet. "Why you've been so worried about me lately."

Lena's jaw clenched and she was suddenly tense, speechless. She exhaled in the back of her throat and pushed her tongue to the left side of her mouth as she straightened her posture.

"We have come so close to losing you, Callie, so many times." Lena said, nodding along with the delicacy in her words. "And when you were in the hospital, I - I thought . . . I thought you wouldn't make it."

I knew it.

"I told myself that I'd had too much luck," she continued, "every time one of my kids is hurt, they always make it out okay in the end. But seeing you in that hospital bed, I had this sick feeling in my stomach, and I convinced myself that I wouldn't be lucky enough for you to pull through."