Page 32 of Kisses and Paperclips

Still, something inside me twisted tight.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

Nothing about this day would be.

She eased into her seat, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her skirt, flashing that soft, practiced smile to the room.

Serena, meanwhile, flipped a switch like it was nothing. Business-mode locked in.

Focused.

The room finally quieted as my mother cleared her throat, voice steady but softer than I remembered.

“I am filled with so much gratitude and pride to stand here today with all of you.”

The words were simple.

But the weight behind them wasn’t.

Calm and measured.

Nothing like the woman who once packed her bags and left my father to deliver the excuse:

She just needed a little space.

For the first time, I saw her.

Not as the mother who left.

Not as the wife who walked away.

But as a woman in her element.

Commanding a room full of people who looked at her like she hung the damn stars.

And I realized, this wasn’t just pride swelling in the air.

It was distance. Years of it. The kind that hardens and hollows out without you even noticing.

“I never dreamed I’d make it this far,” she said, her smile straining against the tightness in her voice. “Working alongside such incredible people.”

A slight tremor slipped past her mask.

Barely there.

But I caught it.

Serena caught it too.

She reached out, her hand finding my mother’s like it had always belonged there.

Just a gesture.

Barely a touch.

But it punched a hole through my chest.

I shifted in my seat, jaw clenching hard enough to crack.

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