Mom was waiting at the door for me. She held it open as I maneuvered myself and my bags inside. I hadn’t told her why I was coming, only that I was on my way and needed her very badly. She took one look at my swollen, tear-stained face and opened her arms for me to step into her embrace.

“What happened, baby? Who hurt you?”

“Oh, Mom. I can’t believe it. I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she murmured, stroking my hair as I shook with fresh sobs.

“I’ve been so stupid.”

“Come on. I’ll fix us some tea and we’ll talk it out. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Everything looks better after a pot of tea.”

One of my grandmother’s favorite sayings passed down to my Mom and then to me. The thought of her, of that apartment I loved so much, only made me feel worse. My chest hurt, literal physical pain. I wondered if I was having a heart attack. Maybe that was what happened when a person’s heart broke. They had a heart attack and died and didn’t have to hurt anymore.

I finished crying in the time it took the water to boil and splashed my face as the tea steeped. Mom waited until I was seated in one of the little wooden chairs around her small kitchen table before asking any questions.

“What happened, sweetie?”

I poured the whole thing out. Josh, Max, the way he’d saved me when I was cornered. The way we pretended to be a couple. She smiled when I told her about hurting my ankle, and the way he’d been so sweet to me. I even hinted at things moving to the next level with Max without getting graphic. We were friends and all, me and my mom, but we weren’t that close.

And then I told her about what Alexander said at dinner. She knew about the buyer who tried to get me to move out, of course, and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, no. Oh, that’s horrible!” She looked genuinely heartbroken, just like any mother would when their child was in pain.

“So, that’s what happened. I came here instead of going all the way home. I couldn’t imagine being there alone right now.”

“Of course, honey. I’m so glad you came. I’m so sorry this happened.” She patted my hand, wiping away her own tears with the other.

“Is it me? Am I a magnet for these jerks who think they can use women and get away with it?”

She shook her head. “Of course, you’re not. You’re just having a run of bad luck.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I whispered. The tea did help a little, at least. Chamomile. Just the scent relaxed me, and the memory of nights spent drinking tea together tugged at my bruised heart.

“I thought I was in love with him, Mom. I’m so ashamed of myself.”

She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t blame yourself for developing feelings for him. He sounds like the total package when you don't include the apartment issue."

“That was what I thought, too. I thought he had it all. And he wanted me, which obviously made him even more attractive.”

We both snorted into our teacups, which ended in a sob for me.

“Let me pass on a little bit of wisdom I’ve picked up,” she said, her voice as soft and gentle as ever.

“Please, do. I’m in dire need.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Love isn’t something that’s supposed to make us feel ashamed.”

“But I let myself fall for him, Mom. It’s embarrassing.”

“I know it is right now, but you still have nothing to be ashamed of. Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean your feelings weren’t real. I mean, look at your father and me.” She grinned ruefully, shaking her head. “Ahh, I know it’s hard for you to believe this, but there was a time when we were crazy about each other. When we didn’t fight constantly. We were really, truly in love. And just because it ended the way it did, doesn’t erase those feelings. That would be a terrible shame, wouldn’t it?”

“It would.”

“You might wish you never felt that way,” she said, nodding. “I used to. I used to wish I never met him. But then I wouldn’t have you. And I wouldn’t have the memory of when times were good. I can’t pretend I would erase the memory if I had the chance. Just like I’m sure you wouldn’t erase the memory of Max if you had a chance to do it.”

I wanted to disagree with her, but it was no use. She was always right, as I’d come to understand the older I got. Wouldn’t thirteen-year-old me be disappointed? “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

“You know you can stay as long as you need, right?”

“Can I just stay forever?”

She shook her head. “Afraid not. You can’t hide from life forever.”

“Ugh. You sound so much like a mom right now.”

“It’s an occupational hazard.”

“Mom, something has always bothered me.”

“What”

“Why do you think Grandma left the apartment to me and not you?”

She shrugged. “You sure you want to know?”

I frowned. What new surprises would I have to deal with today? “Of course.”

“Your grandma had a gift. She never spoke about it, but when we were kids she used to sometimes use it.”

“What gift?” I whispered.

“She knew things. She would say, Oh, Uncle Ermine must be sick and then we would get news that Uncle Ermine was indeed sick. Sometimes she’d say, oh, I think Fleur might come to visit today and sure enough Fleur would come. Mind you these were the days before the internet. Three days before her father passed away she knew and she began picking wild flowers for his funeral. She was only five years old then.”

“Wow. Really?” I breathed.

Mom nodded. “The reason she wanted you to have the apartment was that she said the most important thing that would ever happen to you would happen when you were living there. She almost wrote it into her will that you couldn’t sell it during your lifetime.”

I stared at mom in astonishment.

Mom patted my hand gently. “She didn’t want me to tell you because she didn’t want you to change your behavior in any way, but she was very old at that time and I don’t know if her gift was still strong. She could have been wrong.”

I looked at my mother bitterly. “I guess she was wrong. The apartment has brought me my greatest hurt and betrayal. I don’t know if I can ever trust another man again, Mom.”

“Oh, darling. If you want to sell that apartment and move on you can. I know, if she could see you now, she wouldn’t expect you to live there. She just wanted what was best for you.”

* * *

There was nothing like being home with Mom when my heart hurt. Running home to be with Mommy should be a requirement for all people trying to act like grownups. Sometimes, being a grown up hurt too much. When I went up to my old room I almost wished my Barbie Dream House were still there so I could really regress.

She even made me instant mac and cheese for lunch on Sunday because she knew me that well and was pretty much the best mother on the planet. We watched old movies like we used to when I was a kid and things at home were good. I couldn’t help remembering when I teased Max about watching them. It would be a while before every little thing didn’t remind me of him.

I told myself to stop watching the clock since all that did was remind me that every passing minute put me one minute closer to needing to go home. The thought of running into Max nauseated me. I didn't know what he'd want from me, and I sure didn't know how I'd keep living there with the knowledge that he was on the other side of the floor. I couldn't exactly get away with egging his door or leaving burning dog poop in the hall. He'd sort of know it was me. And I'd have to smell the burning poop, too, so that was another mark in the negative column.

He didn’t even try to call. That was the worst part. He knew my number. He’d texted me in the past. He didn’t try to text after I left. Was he really that willing to let go of me? Even Josh had tried to reach out, for God’s sake.

The light outside dimmed, and I looked out the window to see clouds rolling in. It was only fitting, considering my mood. I could go for a good storm just then.

“I’m going to get dinner started,” Mom announced.

“What’s for dinner?”

“What do you think?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs?”

She nodded with a smile. “I know my girl.”

“I’m going to ask again. Can I just stay here forever?”

“And again I have to say no,” she replied. “This is special occasion-level stuff. Any other night and we’d have sandwiches and soup.”

“Blargh.” I stuck my tongue out at her. She was still chuckling as she walked into the kitchen from the neat, cheerful little living room. I’d lived there with her after the divorce, which made it tough to spend time in the city. I loved going to my grandmother’s home when my parent were fighting, but Mom’s house would always mean love to me. Hence my running there when somebody hurt me.

The difference between it and the Fields Estate was staggering, but I’d rather be in a little two-bedroom on Long Island. Especially when nobody there had lied to me.

I thought I might have heard the cushions sigh in relief as my butt left the couch for the first time all day to return to my apartment.