Illusive

Her words sat between us in a painful ache. How many times do you let someone trash your trust and abuse the love you’ve given them before you say enough is enough?

I took a deep breath and attempted to give Magan the honesty she deserved. “Honey, our mother doesn’t know how to love. After all these years, I am convinced of that fact. I had hoped that perhaps it would be different for you than it was for me, because it seemed like she may have changed a little in the years between having us. She never visited me after she left, but she visited you, so I thought maybe that meant she would try harder with you. I never wanted to have to say these words to you, but although she gave birth to us, she isn’t a mother. A mother doesn’t abandon her children in the way ours did. And I know you think she was amazing to have visited you twice in your life, but that isn’t enough. A mother should be there to catch her child when she falls, not be the one who causes them to fall.” I took another deep breath, mainly to pull my tears in before they fell. And then I continued. “I will always be here for you. You have my word on that. Anything you need – anything at all – you will have from me.”

She took all of that in while watching me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure how she would react because I’d never been that forceful with her about my feelings. I’d always kept my thoughts to myself, not wanting to take any hope from her, but this was the last straw with our mother. And for her own sanity and self-esteem, Magan needed to hear those words today. I didn’t want her to spend years questioning her own worth in the same way I had.

Eventually, she blinked and nodded. “I know you’re right, but I think there might be a part of me that will always hope she’ll come back,” she said softly, and I couldn’t fault her for having hope. It was something everyone should live with.

“I know, honey…boy, do I know. I don’t ever want to take that away from you, but I want you to live with the truth of the situation and be realistic. False hope has more potential of hurting you than not having any hope at all.”

This was a lot for a seventeen-year-old to deal with. She was at an age where her greatest worry should have been whether the boy she crushed on liked her back, and yet here she was dealing with pain that should never have been inflicted in the first place.

She listened to what I said, and then she placed her head back on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other while dealing with our own thoughts. She cried, but I stayed strong for her. After not having a mother to care for her all these years, I wanted to be there for her in that capacity. And mothers stayed strong for their children. They gave them whatever they needed before they even thought about themselves, and in this moment, I didn’t want to think about myself, and what I needed. If I did, I knew I would fall apart completely. My mother had torn the last shred of hope from my soul.





* * *



I stayed with Magan long into the night. When I finally got home at around ten, I had a long, warm shower and let my tears fall.

Each tear sliced down my cheek with the pain of rejection, abandonment and love that had never been returned.

Tomorrow I would be okay, but tonight I would let it all consume me.

Tonight I would finally say goodbye to my mother.





26





Griff



Fuck.

I re-read Sophia’s text.



Sophia: I’m home now.

Me: Is Magan okay?



She hadn’t replied and when I’d called, she hadn’t answered. Since she’d let me know earlier that she wouldn’t be home tonight because Magan had phoned her in distress, I’d been concerned. The worry in Sophia’s voice had been enough to worry me. I’d made her promise she’d let me know when she was home so I knew she was safe. To not hear back from her now caused me even greater concern.

I grabbed my keys and headed out to my bike.

When I pulled up outside Sophia’s house a little while later, I was surprised to find it in complete darkness. Even if she’d gone to bed straight away, she liked to keep one light on in the house. It was one of her quirky things she did – she’d told me it was something that had carried over from her childhood, and she hadn’t been able to let it go.

I used my key and let myself in, heading straight for her bedroom. When I found her naked and sobbing on her bathroom floor, my heart crashed into my chest. She lay in the dark and wailed, and I felt every ounce of her pain. Her hurt engulfed her to the point she didn’t hear me come in. When I crouched next to her, and placed my hand on her shoulder, her head snapped up, and she stared at me through eyes I wasn’t sure even saw me.

Grief.

Devastation.

Heartbreak.

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