Four Letter Word

“Plenty of people live together before they get married, Mom. This isn’t the fifties.”

“You can make that argument to God when you stand before him at the end of your time. See what he has to say about that.”

I closed my eyes and lowered my head.

“As for the matter of Marcus stepping out on you, he’ll have to answer for his own sins,” she continued. “And like I’ve told you several times already, you should’ve stuck it out and allowed him to repent. Fought for your marriage. Worked through it together as a unit. Instead you walked away. You left your family and now look at you. What a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, air moving in and out of my lungs rapidly and erratically.

I didn’t scream. God …I wanted to. I wanted my anger to rule my reaction, but it didn’t.

Disappointment overwhelmed me. I chose to cry instead.

With tears wetting my cheeks and lips trembling, I kept my head lowered, my shoulders hunched forward, and Brian’s hand in mine.

“I left the man who stopped loving me,” I replied, voice shaking while I stared at my lap. “I didn’t leave my family. You did.”

“Excuse me?”

“You left me,” I whispered. “Barrett died and you left me like I died right along with him, and even at twelve years old, I understood your reason. I knew you were in pain and you needed help, Mom, so even though I was sad, too, and I missed you so, so much, I didn’t hate you for leaving me behind to find your peace. I didn’t even hate you when you found it and forgot to come back for me. I couldn’t. I was happy for you and I was happy for myself because I got Tori and I got her parents. They became my family when you’d stay late at church or go to another prayer meeting. They supported me, and I know in my heart they’d support me still. They wouldn’t judge me like this. They’d care about my happiness because that’s what family does. They are my family. And the friends I have now, the ones I’ve met since moving to Dogwood, they are also my family. And Brian. He is my family. Not Marcus. Never Marcus. Family doesn’t turn their back on you and treat you like you’re nothing. Like you never mattered. They don’t forget about you after getting themselves to a better place. I left Marcus but I never left my family, and I never will. It’s too bad you can’t say the same.”

“Those people are not your family,” she snapped. “I am your mother. I am your family, and when you took a husband, that man became your family. Marcus is your family.”

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” I wiped at my face. “It’s useless. You’re not hearing me.”

“Oh, I’m hearing you. I’m hearing you say a bunch of people you don’t share blood or bond with are the people who matter most to you. That’s what I’m hearing.”

“Good, ’cause that’s exactly what I’m saying,” I hissed through tears, coming up on my knees and blocking Sir when he jumped up excitedly, ready to play.

Brian sat up and got him settled, pulling him to his side.

I continued on from my defensive stance, feeling the weight of Brian’s touch on my back.

“Sometimes family isn’t made up of who you’re born to or who you share a name with. Sometimes it’s made up of a strange man you accidentally dial up and cuss out, or waitresses at a seaside restaurant, or seven-year-old twins who tell you you’re awesome and super pretty. Family are the people who support you and love you no matter what. Who care about your happiness and who don’t pass judgment. Who heal you. Who accept you and the life you’re living. That’s what family is, Mom.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing Barrett died and you gave up on your marriage so you could find that family, sweetheart. Otherwise you’d just be stuck with me, right? And Lord knows you don’t want that.”

I flinched. Breath caught in my throat.

“Mom,” I whispered, voice quivering and anxious to explain. “That’s not what I meant at all. I want more than anything for you to be in my life. I wouldn’t have called back if I didn’t. I’m just saying—”

“I’m honestly not sure why you called back,” she replied, cutting me off. “Unless you’re moving back to Raleigh and fixing what you left behind, we don’t have anything to talk about.”

I rocked back onto my heels.

I was no longer defensive. My body slouched brokenly as the tears kept falling, as my lungs worked exhaustively through my sobs.

“I love him,” I cried. “I love Brian, Mom. I’m not going back to Raleigh.”

She breathed in my ear, slow and patiently, and for a moment I thought maybe she didn’t hear what I’d said, that maybe this wasn’t the end of whatever relationship we had left because I knew in my heart if she’d heard me, it was over.

And still, knowing that risk, I’d never take back those words or say them so she couldn’t hear. I would never be quiet with my love for Brian. Not ever. Not even if it meant the end.

And it did.

She’d heard me. The call disconnected, then the dial tone sounded. That’s how I knew.

It was over.

I let the phone drop and took my face in my hands, sobbing hard and ugly and alone but only for a breath before Brian’s arms were wrapping around me and pulling me onto my side and against his chest, where he held me close. Dipping his head next to mine, he whispered, “Shh, baby,” against my ear while his hand stroked my hair, then he moved his lips to my cheek and kissed my tears as they fell.