Page 77 of Boards & Betrayal

"I know," I whispered, though it felt like a hollow acknowledgment.

She leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "I know you said you love him, Ally, but do you? Do you really? Is he worth all of… this?"

The question hung in the air like an unfinished melody, waiting for resolution.

"I do," I finally confessed, feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

"Then you need to be honest with him and with yourself," she advised gently.

I nodded, knowing she was right, but feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of my situation.

My mother sat down next to me, taking my hands in hers. Her grip was warm and reassuring, a lifeline I desperately needed.

"Just because your father left us for another woman doesn't mean you're the other woman," she said gently. "Or that Tom will do that to you."

"I know he won't," I replied, my voice wavering slightly. "He wants to marry me."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I might have to meet this Tom..."

I managed a small smile, but it didn't reach my eyes. The weight of everything still pressed heavily on my chest.

"Honey," she said seriously, searching my face for any sign of doubt. "You know that, right?"

"But what if Nick can repair his relationship with his father but doesn't because of me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Well, what's been the nature of their relationship?" she asked, her tone probing yet gentle.

I paused, thinking about it for the first time. "Honestly? It's never been good. Tom says he tries, but Nick's mom created a wedge between them as early as possible. He tried to stay..."

"It never works when you stay," my mother murmured, almost to herself.

"What?" I looked at her, confusion etched on my face.

"Honey," she began, her eyes distant, as if recalling a memory long buried. "Me and your father had a loving relationship, but it wasn't perfect. I got the sense that we weren't going to wind up together, and there were a couple of red flags early on I noticed but ignored in the name of love."

"Like what?" I asked, curiosity mingling with concern.

"It doesn't matter," she said with a dismissive wave. "What does matter is you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and while I'm grateful to God your father and I aren't together, I can still acknowledge that without him, I wouldn't have you." She gently touched my cheeks, her eyes softening with affection. "He chose to walk away from us, Ally. It had nothing to do with you."

"But—"

"And you're not responsible for other people's relationships," she continued firmly. "If you broke up a marriage, that's a different situation. But this? This has nothing to do with you.And quite frankly, it sounds like it's been going on since you were a baby."

Her words hung in the air between us like a lifeline tossed into turbulent waters. They made sense logically, but emotionally? Emotionally, I still felt tangled in the web of their complicated history.

My mother squeezed my hands one last time before letting go. "You need to live your life for you, Ally."

The conversation drifted into silence again, each of us lost in our thoughts and emotions. The living room felt both comforting and suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on the truths we were unearthing.

"I'm assuming there's more to it, though?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

I nodded, feeling the weight of my confession settle in my chest. "I left," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I stopped answering his calls. Like I said, I didn't want them to hate each other because of me."

My mother nodded, waiting for me to continue. Her patience felt like both a comfort and a challenge.

This was the hardest part. I had never told anyone this. My chest tightened, and tears sprang into my eyes. I looked at her, searching for some strength in her steady gaze.

"Honey?" she asked, her voice gentle but urgent. "Honey, what is it?"

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