Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“So, you didn’t say I abandoned you?”
She winced. “That arsehole of a journo took it out of context. I felt abandoned, My, but I said more than that. I had no idea he was going to come at it as an attack against you.”
“Why talk to him in the first place?”
“Because I was naive and … I’ve faced everything else in my life but you. You represent all of my behavior I’m most ashamed of, and I’ve found you the hardest to face.” She looked away even now, unable to look me in the eye. “I took the coward’s way out by never reaching out to you when I got clean, and I … when that dickhead approached me, I stupidly thought it was a way to reach out without forcing it on you.”
My emotions were rocked because this wasn’t what I’d expected. At all. And I honestly didn’t know what to believe. She’d played with my emotions so much as a child.
Maryanne finally met my gaze. “When I was fucked up, it was difficult for my brain to process anything but wanting the escape that I got from smack. Smack was all I could think about. But when your dad came to me and I knew you’d found him, there was this wee part of me …” She struggled to speak, her jaw moving in and out as she tried to stop the tears from escaping and failed. Maryanne brushed impatiently at them. “There was this part of me leftover that was still your mum and as callous as it seemed at the time, I knew you needed to be away from me.”
“That’s not quite how you put it.” I glared, refusing to give in to the tears that stung in my own nose.
She shook her head. “I can imagine. I can’t remember everything I did, but I remember some stuff, and I know it was bad, My. I know that I put you in situations that no fucking bairn should ever be put in. I know that. And believe you me, I work every day to fight my self-loathing over it.”
I stared at my shoes.
It was all I’d wanted to know.
If she felt remorse.
Or if my own mother was a villain.
To know that she’d felt remorse was a relief.
But it didn’t miraculously wipe away all my heartbreak and resentments.
“It’s … it was about six months after you went to live with your dad and … well, the universe has a funny way of fixing what’s broken. I was in a car accident with Kells. I don’t know if you remember him.”
My eyes flew to her in surprise regarding the car accident. I did know Kells. He was her dealer. I nodded.
“Kells died. I was in a coma for a couple of weeks. I had no choice but to go through withdrawal in hospital. I’d have never gotten clean otherwise, Maia. There was a nurse there who really cared about me getting clean and staying sober, and so she went above and beyond. Her name was Karisha, and she was one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. She took me in and drove me to AA meetings and she got me involved in her local church. She got me a job working for a charity, and I lived with her for four years until she passed away.”
I gaped at her in shock. I’d wondered how she’d gotten sober, but the idea of her going to church and working for a charity seemed unreal.
“I was very lucky.” Maryanne nodded, sensing my disbelief. “During all that, I went back to school part time to study psychology, and I worked toward becoming a counselor, specializing in addiction.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
She shrugged, seeming embarrassed. “I’ve spent the last decade helping other people make amends to their loved ones, and I couldn’t even reach out to my own daughter to tell her how sorry I was.”
Rage flushed through me like someone had lit a kerosene fire at my feet, but I sucked back the urge to roar at her. Cheeks hot, fists clenched, I took deep breaths because I didn’t want this to descend into a fight. But how could she? How could she be so selfish in her cowardice?
“Did you even want to know me?” I asked.
“Of course. I … googled you. Found your socials. Saw you seemed to be doing well, and I was relieved. I was relieved that I hadn’t royally fucked you up.” She half laugh, half sobbed.
“But you did.” I stared at her like she was nuts. “You fucked me up, Maryanne. I … for years, I’ve carried the weight of not just your inability to love me like a mum should have, but the years of abuse and torment from other people because of your actions. I loved you. I was your parent, not the other way around. You slapped me when I told you one of your boyfriend’s tried to assault me.”