Page 25 of Fake To Forever

The soft hum of the machines monitoring my mom’s heart and other bodily functions is the only sound in the room for several moments as I sit beside her, holding her hand. Her hand feels fragile, but her grip is strong enough to remind me of the woman she used to be—the woman who could do anything, who was always there for me, who seemed invincible.

She’s not anymore, and every time I visit, it gets harder to ignore the truth. She’s slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Haven,” she says quietly, her voice breaking through my thoughts. I look up to meet her eyes.

“Yeah, Mom?”

She gives me a small smile, but there’s something behind it—something that makes my heart tighten in my chest.

“I’ve been thinking,” she begins. “I know I don’t have much time left.”

“Mom, don’t?—”

She squeezes my hand, cutting me off. “Let me finish, sweetheart.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s a firmness to it that makes me bite back whatever protest I had ready. “I know you’re strong, and I know you’ll be okay, but… there’s something I want more than anything before I go.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure because I really don’t like the direction this conversation is going. When she gets serious like this, it makes the reality of her condition impossible to ignore.

“I want to see you happy, Haven. I want to see you married, settled, with someone who loves you as much as I do. Someone who can take care of you when I’m not here.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but it’s useless.

“Mom, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine and happy, I promise. I don’t need someone to take care of me. I have Garrett, Peter, and Marie. We’ll look after each other.”

But even as I say it, I know it’s not entirely true. Sure, I’m content with my life—I have a job I love, friends who care about me, and like I said, my brother and stepfather—but the truth is, there’s something missing. Something I’ve been too afraid to admit to myself, let alone to her.

“You’re happy, but you’re not settled,” she says, her voice soft but unwavering. “And I know you, Haven. You’re so focused on everyone else, on your work, on making sure everything is perfect, that you forget to think about yourself. About what you need.”

I don’t know what to say. How can I tell her that the thought of finding someone, of putting myself out there, terrifies me? That I’ve built my life around being independent, around not needing anyone because the idea of needing someone and then losing them—like I’m losing her—feels unbearable?

“I just want to know that when I’m gone, you’ll have someone to lean on,” she continues, her voice cracking just a little. “Someone who’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

Her words hang in the air, and I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of them. I want to promise her that I’ll find someone and settle down and be happy, but the truth is, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’m ready for that, or if I ever will be.

I can’t tell her that. Not now. Not when it’s the one thing she wants more than anything.

“I’ll try, Mom,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I promise I’ll try.”

She smiles at me, and even though it’s small and tired, it’s full of so much love that it makes my heart ache. “That’s all I ask, sweetheart. Just try. Don’t close yourself off from the world. You deserve to be loved, to be happy. I wish I could see that happen for you before I go. It would bring me a lot of peace, but so long as you promise to let yourself be open to that, that’ll be more than enough for me. ”

I know she doesn’t mean to cause me any pain by saying this, but her words slice through me like a knife. All I want is to give her peace and make whatever time she has left as happy and fulfilling as possible, but I don’t know how to respond to this last wish.

Forcing a smile, I gently squeeze her hand. “Okay, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

I stay for a little while longer, but she soon starts to nod off, the exertion from my visit overcoming her. When she finally falls asleep, I stand and give her a kiss on her forehead before slipping out of the room.

It isn’t until I’m sitting in my car, staring blankly out the windshield that I let the tears fall. My mom’s words echo in my mind, her last wish repeating over and over until I can’t ignore it anymore.

She wants me married. Settled. Happy. That’s what will bring her peace before she dies.

Gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it before. There were times—brief, fleeting moments—when I imagined what it might be like to have someone by my side. To build a life with someone, to share all the little moments, to not feel so… alone. But every time, I push those thoughts away, tell myself I’m fine on my own, that I don’t need anyone, that it’s easier this way. That I have more important things to worry about.

Now, I can’t just brush it off. My mom wants this for me, and how can I ignore that? How can I not at least try to give her what she wants, especially when she’s been so strong and so selfless through everything?

But how? How do I even begin?

My mind drifts to Christian Tallow, the man who’s been occupying far too much space in my thoughts lately. Chris—the hot single dad who was just another parent at the daycare until he kissed me. Until I found out who he really was.

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