Page 114 of Now That It's You
“I understand that.”
Meg swallowed, wondering if she should say something else. There was so much she could say—so much regret and anger and confusion she’d never given voice to.
But maybe voicing those things wasn’t the way to find closure. Maybe shutting the hell up was the best form of peace she could offer.
“I loved having you in our family, Meg,” Sylvia said at last. “For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t hate you, either.”
“That sounds like a start.”
It felt like an odd choice of words, considering they’d likely never see each other again after this. But it was a common phrase, something easier to say than acknowledging the end.
Meg turned to go.
“There’s something you don’t know about those weeks after you left,” Sylvia said.
Meg turned around. She stood rooted in place, waiting to see if Sylvia would continue or wave her away with those taunting words hanging between them in the damp, chilly air.
When Sylvia spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. “It all hit Matt very hard. The guilt, your leaving, the feeling that he’d disappointed everyone.” She gripped the envelope tight in her fingers, her knuckles white as she creased the edge of it. “I know you were hurt, Meg, and you had every right to be. But the sadness that took Matt—he went to a very dark place.”
Meg stared at her, trying to understand. “Depression, you mean?”
Sylvia gave a tight nod. “Yes.”
“I see,” Meg said, remembering Chloe’s words about Matt getting his mental health in order. Is that what she’d meant? “He always showed little signs of it,” Meg said softly. “Mood swings, anxiety, sleeping a lot. I used to suggest he see someone about it, but he refused.”
“This was worse.” Sylvia took a deep breath. “Much worse. It was terrifying. It took over completely after you left. He shut himself off from everyone except Kyle.”
“I had no idea.” A needle of guilt pierced her through the breastbone, and she ordered herself to keep breathing.
“No one knew,” Sylvia said. “That’s how Matt wanted it. He didn’t think I knew.”
“But how did you?—”
“Mothers know these things.” Sylvia pressed her lips together. “Just like I know Kyle is the reason your cookbook became a bestseller.”
“What?” Meg felt her blood run cold.
“He never said a word to me about giving the book to that actress. Do you realize that?”
She blinked, trying to make sense of what Sylvia was saying. Kyle might have betrayed her in one way, but he’d held back that crucial piece of information. He’d known his mother would use it against her, and he hadn’t said a word. Maybe it hadn’t mattered, not in the grand scheme of the lawsuit.
But somehow, it mattered to Meg.
Sylvia cleared her throat, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air between them. “I’ll look these over with my attorney and get back to you,” she said, holding up the envelope.
“Okay,” she said softly, still reeling. She started to turn away again, pretty sure they’d said all there was to say.
“And Meg?”
She turned back to Sylvia, pulling her jacket tighter around her to guard against the crisp fall air. “Yes?”
“My son would have been lucky to have you.”
Meg nodded as her stomach flipped over. She closed her eyes and pictured Kyle, the way his gray-green eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the way he could never remember names or celebrity gossip but remembered exactly how to julienne a carrot when she’d only showed him once.
Then she pictured Matt, remembering him with a fondness that felt more like friendship than passion or true love or any of the things she thought she’d had with him so many years ago. She remembered the way he made her laugh, cajoling her from a premenstrual funk with goofy faces and raunchy jokes. She remembered his love of family, the way he took his mother to brunch the last Sunday of every month. She remembered the hurt in his eyes the instant before she turned and ran from that church.
