“You’re my biological mother.”
Her face crumpled. She turned toward me.
“You’re a mother. Tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“That people make mistakes. That you don’t throw away your mother because she got things wrong.”
I considered her request.
Until recently, I might have believed motherhood alone entitled someone to forgiveness. Now I understood that it didn’t.
“I understand why missing this hurts,” I said.
Hope flickered across her face.
“But being his mother doesn’t give you the right to force your way into his life.”
“You have no idea what it’s like to lose a child.”
“No,” I said. “But I know what it’s like to love one enough to listen when they say no.”
Ryan lowered his eyes. His mother wiped away tears.
Then he spoke quietly.
“I wanted to know you. I still might someday. But not like this. Not when every boundary I give you becomes something you try to get around.”
She watched him for a moment, picked up her purse, and quietly left.
