“Because she thinks wanting you makes her selfish.”
“That sounds like Michelle.”
My mother smiled sadly.
“She has always been very good at punishing herself.”
I looked toward the rain.
“Do you hate her?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“I was furious. Shocked. Protective. But no. I don’t hate her.”
“She thinks she lost you.”
“I told her twenty-five years doesn’t disappear because life became complicated.”
I finally looked at my mother.
“What about me?”
Laura sighed.
“You’re asking permission.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are.”
Maybe I was.
She set down her cup.
“You’re an adult, Evan. I can tell you I’m uncomfortable. I can tell you this could get messy. I can tell you the age difference matters and that history matters.”
I waited.
“But I can’t choose for you.”
Something in my chest loosened.
She raised one finger.
“That is not approval.”
“I know.”
