JODIE
“Mum?” I gasp, coming to a grinding halt the second I round the corner into the kitchen and find her sitting at the table, hugging a mug.
“What the—” Brianna slams into my back, sending me tumbling forward. “Joanne,” she blurts. “It’s so good to see you up,” she says, sounding as shocked as I feel.
Mum’s eyes find mine, and my heart shatters in my chest at the pain staring back at me.
Walking over, I pull the chair out beside her and sit down, wrapping my hands around hers, letting the heat of the coffee warm my chilled skin.
“I’m sorry,” she sobs, one of the tears she’s desperately trying to hold in falling from her lashes.
I shake my head, my throat too thick with emotion to force any words out.
“It’s okay,” I finally manage. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
She blows out a breath, her head dropping, severing our connection as the weight of her grief weighs her down once more.
Bri’s hand squeezes my shoulder.
Glancing up at her, I say words that make my heart ache even worse. “I should stay home tonight.”
I expect Bri to argue, but when someone speaks, it’s not her voice that hits my ears.
“No,” Mum says sharply before lifting her head once more.
This time, it’s not just grief I see swirling in her dark depths but also determination.
“You are not staying in to babysit me. Your dad, Joe… they wouldn’t have wanted that,” she chokes out.
My heart twists at the agony in her words as she mentions them. She might as well have just pushed a knife into my chest.
“And they wouldn’t want you alone,” I point out.
“Jodie,” she sighs. “Don’t put your life on hold because of me. If there’s one thing the past few months have taught us, it’s that life is short. Too short to waste.”
I bite back my immediate response to tell her to listen to her own advice, because I don’t think it would do her any good right now.
“Go out with Bri. Let her show you a good time. Smile, laugh, have fun. It’s what I want.”
I look back up at Bri, my body feeling like it’s being ripped in half by the two most important women in my life.
“It’s up to you, Jojo,” Bri says softly. “We can order takeout and just chill here,” she offers.
“No,” Mum says again. “I want things to be normal. Please,” she begs. “I want to listen to your music while you get ready. I want to watch you get dolled up. I want to see you both smiling, laughing. I want to wave you off, knowing that you’re about to have the time of your lives. I want you to be young and living. Not stuck here drowning with me.”
“But—”
“No buts, Jojo. Your mother has spoken.”
My lips part in shock at the authority in her voice when she’s barely said more than a few words in the past few weeks.
What changed?
“You’re right,” Bri says, squeezing my shoulder to stop me from arguing. “But if Jojo does this, she’s going to need something from you in return.”
My brows pinch as I look between the two of them.
“We know everything is hard as fuck right now,” she says bluntly, one of the many reasons why I love her, “but if you want Jojo to try to restart her life once more, then she needs to see you trying to do the same. I’m not asking for anything crazy, just… get up and get dressed every day.”