I nodded. “That sounds about right.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” she said, meeting my gaze.
“What? Oh, I, um…was just agreeing.”
“Hmm…so, tell me about yourself, Mia. What have you been doing? Where has life taken you?”
“Oh, well, um…there isn’t much to tell,” I floundered, picking apart pieces from my muffin.
“I don’t believe that. Surely, you have something special to tell. Or someone maybe?” she asked, her tone even and supportive. She took a sip of coffee and then remained quiet. She genuinely wanted to know about my life.
“There was someone, but it wasn’t right. I wasn’t right.”
“Hmm…” she said again.
We continued to nibble on our muffins and sip our coffees. I looked around the room and noticed the small changes that had been made. New furniture had been purchased, and pictures had been added. Clare’s and Leah’s children had been added to the mantel as well as wedding photos. Time had moved on while I was away.
“He’s been waiting for you,” she said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?”
“Garrett has been waiting for you to come back to him.”
I set my muffin down on the small table next to the sofa. My heartbeat had just kicked into high gear, and I didn’t want to risk spilling anything on what looked like brand-new carpet. This was not how I’d expected this visit to go.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“He might not come to me like Clare does, but I’m still his mother. I know him better than he thinks I do.”
Tears stung my eyes, and my voice quivered as I said, “I never meant to put his life on pause.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, rising from her chair to sit with me on the couch. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Love can often be strange, and sometimes, it doesn’t always take the path we expect it to. Whatever or whoever took you away from us, from him, it doesn’t matter now. You’re here now. Make it count.”
“I don’t think this can be fixed or forgiven.”
“It can. If it’s true love, you can move past this,” she encouraged, taking my hands.
I stared down at them as I let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what happened.”
She squeezed my hands and I looked up to find her looking at me with those warm green eyes that were so much like her son’s. “I do.”
“No, you—”
“I do. I’ve always known,” she said.
I gasped and tried to pull away, but she kept a firm hold on my hands.
“I found the note in Garrett’s room a few weeks after you left.”
My head fell forward. I was too ashamed to look at her. “You must hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Mia. You were faced with an immense choice, one beyond your capacity to handle as an eighteen-year-old.”
“I chose wrong, so wrong,” I said.
“Whatever you chose, it led you to this moment, sweetheart. Don’t let another opportunity pass you by. Stop living your life in regret.”
I fell into her arms and sobbed. I cried for the child I never knew and the life I lost because of it. I mourned the loss of possibilities because of my poor decisions, and I cried for the kindness I was being given from a woman who should hate me. I’d ruined her son’s life.
“Since that day I said good-bye to Tom, the only thing that gets me up in the morning is the fact that I know we spent every day of our lives together loving each other as much as we possibly could. If I didn’t have that, I think I’d lose myself to regret and grief.”
She stroked my hair as my tears dried up. Our coffee had long since gone cold, but neither of us cared. The sun was setting and casting rays of light on the mantel. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a picture frame catch the sun’s reflection. It was Garrett in a cap and gown on the day of his college graduation. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
That was supposed to be our graduation day, our accomplishment.
So many lost moments.
So many regrets.
How could we move forward when we were both still stuck in the past?
~Garrett~
Sweat poured down my bare back as I wiped my brow and pushed my parents’ lawn mower back into the shed.
Correction—my mother’s lawn mower.
Would it ever get easier?
He’d been gone almost two weeks, and I couldn’t bring myself to take his cell number out of my list of contacts. Clare and I still called this our parents’ house, regardless of who lived here. For the life of me, I couldn’t walk into the living room without expecting my father to be sitting in his favorite chair, ready to ask me about work or read a story to one of the grandchildren.
But he wasn’t here, and as I locked the shed and walked back into the house where my mother now lived alone, I felt more lost than ever.
My father had been my rock in life, my mentor and guide, the one I turned to when I needed advice or strength. Even after Mia had left and I shut down and closed myself off, he had still been the person I went to when I needed an outlet.
Now, he was gone, and after a week of silence, so was Mia.
I didn’t know why I’d expected anything different. It was what we’d wanted and needed—no attachment beyond one night. In one moment of weakness, we’d reached out for each other to remember, and God, had I remembered.
Her skin had jump-started my heart, her kiss had ignited my passion, and every single touch had reminded me that my soul would never belong to anyone else but the woman beneath me. Mia owned me and always would. The rest of my life would be a game of trying to find someone who would never quite measure up to the woman I’d lost. Was it even worth trying? Would it be cruel to pursue someone, knowing I’d never be able to give her anything more than a lukewarm companionship?
No answers came to me as I grabbed a freshly laundered towel from a basket near the laundry room. I used it to wipe away the sweat still left on my body from outside. My dad had always been the one to take care of the immaculate lawn. Now, I would have to do it or find someone to take over because there was no way my petite mother was taking charge of that task.
I meandered into the living room, avoiding the empty chair in the corner. I lifted my shirt from the back of the couch and threw it over my head. Taking a look around, I found my mom in the kitchen, trying to make sense of all the food, flowers, and gifts that had been dropped off over the last week. Every inch of countertop was covered.