“I miss her,” I said absentmindedly.
The house closest to us seemed empty, no occupants walking around the kitchen, unlike our middle-class home, where we’d congregate in the kitchen, growing up.
The memory triggered something in my brain, and my heart seized. Family dinners. Car rides where we were all squished together so tightly that it was like we were in a clown car.
All of us crowded in one room, most on the bed, some sleeping on the floor, when my mother was sick, always next to her, before she went to the hospital.
My eyes fell shut as I tried to control my breathing but couldn’t.
I was never the type to get claustrophobic, but right now, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get the next breath in my lungs. My heart pounded harder, faster. It felt as though I were experiencing a full-on heat wave when we were outside.
The memories bombarded my brain like a bad nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
At my mother’s funeral, I hadn’t even processed that she was dead. Her body lay in an open casket, and I had been operating on two hours of sleep because I’d had to get everything ready and prepared for the funeral. I’d hired the priest and printed out the pamphlets and prayer cards with her name on them. I’d ordered food and invited all who had known and loved my mother.
I remembered everyone had congregated around me, asking me how she died, if it was peaceful, if I was okay, if the twins were okay, what would happen to the business. The questions had come at me at rapid-fire, people hugging me, patting my back in consolation. And all I wanted… all I needed was room … room to breathe.
I remembered my mother always telling me in her soft voice, “It’s okay, Sydney. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to feel like you have to handle it all.”
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, letting out a low exhale.
“Sydney!”
Strong arms pulled me by my arms, and my eyes flew open, meeting Austin’s.
“I was calling you. You didn’t hear me?” His eyebrows pulled in. “You’re crying, Sydney.” He sounded worried.
“I am?” I swiped at my eyes, noting my cheeks were damp with tears. “Sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while. I went to a place I never like to go to …” I gulped some air, trying to gain my bearings. “I’m okay.”
Austin cupped my cheeks. “Sydney, what’s the matter?”
My tears were dried up, almost frozen from the cold, but the tender way he was looking at me made me want to cry all over again, which made no sense.
“I’m fine.”
“Fuck, Sydney. You’re not okay.” He shook his head. “Where did you go, baby?”
He crushed me into his chest, his hand making it to the nape of my neck and his lips to my temple.
“I’m okay,” I repeated.
He held me in silence, and I relaxed into him because for the first time in forever, it felt nice to lean on someone else for once, to let someone comfort me this way and not be the one holding everyone else together.
“What is it? You can tell me.”
He pulled me tighter against him and I had to admit, I was a little embarrassed, given that I was crying.
We’d gone from enemies, to friends, to me trusting him in all things now, and the words slipped out without a second thought. “I was thinking of my mom. I haven’t done that in a long time. And … I miss her.”
I inhaled deeply, taking in his masculine scent. I was getting used to this, getting used to being this close to him.
“I bet she was amazing. She had to be because you’re an extension of her.”
My arms wrapped around his waist, and he rested his chin on the top of my head.
“You scared me for a second.”
I laughed. “Why?”