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“Me?” The word escapes in a whisper, disbelief lacing the single syllable. “I don’t know if I—”

“Of course, you.” She fills the containers up.

“Connor… he doesn’t talk about her much. His mother, I mean.”

Margaret sighs. “No, he wouldn’t. That boy… He’s got walls higher than the Great Wall of China. But he cares about you, Mary. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

My cheeks flush at her words, and I duck my head to hide my smile. “I care about him, too. I just… I don’t know if I’m enough. If I can be what he needs.”

“Honey, you are enough just by being here, by trying. That’s more than most people would do. Those boys have been through a lot. Losing a mother like that changes you.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“Connor took it the hardest. Ezra was just a baby, but Connor... he remembers.”

My heart clenches at the thought of a young Connor, confused and hurt, wondering why his mother left. Wondering what he did wrong.

“He’s lucky to have you,” I say. “All of you.”

Margaret’s smile is warm, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, dear. He was so suspicious when I came to look after him and Ezra. That boy is terrified of being abandoned again.”

It explains so much—the walls he puts up, the intensity with which he clings to me. The fear that simmers beneath the surface of his every action. He’s terrified that I’ll leave, just like she did. That one day, I’ll wake up and decide he’s not enough, not worthy of my love.

God, it breaks my heart. To think of the pain he must carry, the scars that run so deep they’ve become a part of him. And here I am, complaining about his protectiveness, his nagging, his need to know where I am at all times. I never considered the root of it all.

Fear. Raw, unbridled fear of being left behind. Of being abandoned like his mother abandoned him.

It’s not right, the extent to which he went. The cameras, the tracking, the constant surveillance. But I understand it now. He’s not trying to control me. He’s trying to keep me close, to make sure I don’t slip away.

How can I be angry with him for that? For wanting to hold onto the one thing he’s afraid to lose?

The click of a plastic lid seals in more than just leftovers.

“His mother, she…” I say.

“When he was ateenager, he found her. He went to her workplace, begging her to come back. She acted like she didn’t even know him. I had to pick him up from the police station. The confusion in his eyes…” Her hand finds mine, squeezing. “We’re lucky to have him. He’s a good man, Mary. A bit rough around the edges, but his heart is pure gold.”

A little boy begging for love and understanding, only to be cast aside like a stranger. What could have driven her to leave her family behind? Did she even realize the damage she was causing? The scars she was leaving on her sons’ hearts?

“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”

Understanding Connor’s past is like finding pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t realized were missing—each one simultaneously answering and complicating everything I feel for him. We both fear the same thing.

Connor’s wounds run deep, and they won’t be mended overnight. It will take time, patience, and understanding. It will take me being there, even when he pushes me away.

I love him. I do. But loving someone doesn’t mean ignoring the parts of them that are broken. It means helping them heal, even when it’s hard.

And it will be hard. I know that now.

But I’m not going anywhere. I’m not his mother. I won’t abandon him, no matter how difficult it gets. I’ll stand by his side through the good and the bad.

Because that’s what love is. It’s not a fairytale, not a perfect happily ever after. It’s a choice, a commitment to be there, even when it’s hard. And I choose Connor, broken pieces and all.

I just hope he can see that. That he can learn to trust me, to believe that I’m not going to leave. That I’m in this for the long haul, no matter what.

It won’t be easy. But then again, nothing worth having ever is.

“Love can heal, but it takes patience.” She releases my hand, offering a smile tinged with hope. “You seem to have plenty of that.”

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