Page 84 of Beyond Question

Before she goes, I slip my hand around hers. “Please stop them.”

“Oh no.”

I nod. “Yeah. Just… try to talk some sense into Travis, please.” I inhale deeply, then add, "He means well, but I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”

Rylan smiles and tilts her head, looking at me with obvious pity. “Paige…” She shakes her head and I frown. “You still haven’t figured it out?”

My eyes narrow.

“Need him or not, you’ve got him.” With that, she leaves, and I’m left with a feeling I can’t quite put into words.

“Mom,” Bronte says, and I whip my head toward her, then hurry into the room. I’ve stayed away from her long enough. She needed time, and I gave her some, but until I’m beside her again, my heart will feel like a piece of it is missing.

I climb onto the bed and scoot beside her, but I don’t reach for her, unsure of where she is with her feelings. She must have so many questions, new fears…

I don’t want to overwhelm her by pulling her into my body even though this ache feels like it wouldn’t be satiated unless I could somehow fit this five-foot-seven fully grown woman back into the safety of my womb again.

“How are you?” she asks, and I can’t help the burst of laughter that slips past my lips.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m just so worried about howyouare.” I chuckle softly. “Your question surprised me.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” She drops her gaze and I know she’s lying.

“Hey,” I whisper, “it’s okay if you’re not. It’s okay if you’re scared or confused or… even angry with me.”

She lifts her gaze and searches my eyes with blue eyes that mirror my own. Rimmed in red like mine probably are. “Okay.” She nods. “I’m all of those things.”

Nodding, I reach for her hand and she quickly slides her own into mine, tightening her fingers. “What do you need from me right now?”

She takes a deep breath, then looks me in the eyes. “All of it.”

I pull in a shaky breath.

“Every detail, Mom, even the ones you think I can’t handle.”

I nod.

“You’ve protected me for too long.”

“It’s my job—”

“No, Mama, not like this. Not to the point of robbing yourself of happiness.”

“I’ve been happy…” My words trail off at the look in her eyes.

“You’ve been existing. It’s not the same thing.”

“Bronte,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Being your mom is happiness.”

“And the business.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And love?” She looks at me with that familiar, knowing glint of indignation in her eyes that I know is a direct replica of mine. “What about that? What about Travis? I know you’ve been pushing him away. How many before him? How many chances at love did you have that you pushed away?”

“I had to focus on you—”

“No.” Bronte sits up straighter. “Don’t put it on me. You’ve been scared, and I get it.” She pauses, then shakes her head. “No, I don’t get it. I have no idea what you went through.” She squeezes my hand. “Because my mom protected me the way yours should have. But even so, you’ve pushed people away from you for as long as I can remember. No men. No friends.”

---