Chapter 6
The drive to Houston took three hours.
I sat in the passenger seat of J’s truck, watching the Texas countryside roll by, my stomach twisted in knots.
What if my mom was sicker than J said?
What if she was angry I’d stayed with Ethan so long?
What if she didn’t recognize the woman I’d become?
J reached over, squeezed my hand.
“She’s gonna be so happy to see you,” he said, like he could read my mind.
We pulled up to the clinic an hour later.
A low, modern building surrounded by gardens, soft music coming from the open windows.
J walked me up to the third floor, stopping in front of room 312.
“Go on,” he said, smiling. “I’ll wait out here.”
I took a deep breath, pushed the door open.
My mom was sitting in a chair by the window, reading a book.
Her hair was thinner than I remembered, her face a little paler.
But when she looked up and saw me, her face lit up like the sun.
“Lila,” she said, voice thick with tears.
She stood up, fast, and I ran to her.
We hugged each other tight, both of us crying, neither of us wanting to let go.
“I missed you so much,” I said, burying my face in her shoulder. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. Ethan said—”
She pulled back, holding my face in her hands, wiping my tears away with her thumbs.
“I know, baby,” she said. “I know what he said. I know what he did.”
I stared at her.
“You knew?”
She nodded, leading me over to the couch, sitting down next to me.
“The first time you came to visit after the wedding, you had a bruise on your wrist. You tried to hide it under your sleeve, but I saw it. I knew then what he was.”
My throat tightened.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you make me leave?”
“Because I was scared,” she said, voice breaking. “I was scared if I told you to leave, he’d hurt you worse. I was scared he’d cut off my treatment, and you’d blame yourself for my death. So I called J. The day after that visit. I asked him to watch over you. To wait until you were ready to leave on your own. I told him to pay my bills if Ethan ever stopped, so you’d never have to choose between me and your safety.”
I stared at her.
All this time, I thought I was protecting her.
But she’d been protecting me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, crying harder. “I let him hurt me. I let him steal everything Dad built. I was so weak.”
She pulled me into her arms again, rocking me like I was a little girl.
“You are not weak,” she said, firm. “You survived three years of hell to make sure I was okay. That is the strongest thing a daughter could ever do for her mother. And now you’re fighting back. That takes more courage than I could ever have.”
We sat there for a long time, holding each other, catching up.
She told me about the clinic, about the new chemo treatment that was working, about how the doctors said she was in partial remission.
I told her about J, about the lawsuit, about the plan to take back the company.
When I told her about the two hundred strikes, her face went hard.
I’d never seen my mom look angry like that.
“He will pay for this, Lila,” she said, voice cold. “I promise you. He will pay for every single thing he did to you.”
J knocked on the door a little later, poking his head in.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, smiling. “But the doctor said Margaret can be released tomorrow, if she wants. We have a room all set up for her at the safe house. Full time nurse, anything she needs.”
My mom looked at me, eyes bright.
“Can I come live with you, baby?” she said.
May you like
I laughed through my tears, hugging her again.
“Of course you can,” I said. “There’s nowhere I’d rather have you.”
