Page 175 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“A gun,” Mom said, and Heather’s eyes widened in shock. “I know, I know. But I was desperate and terrified. The police weren’t doing anything, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“The next time Anthony came around, pounding on the shelter doors, screaming my name... I met him outside, hiding the gun behind my back. He laughed in my face when he saw me, called me weak and pathetic.” She stared out the window. “I pointed the gun right at him. Told him if he ever came near us again, I would kill him. He just laughed harder, told me I didn’t have the guts. I pulled the trigger. Missed him by an inch, but it was enough. He stopped laughing real fast. Ran off with his tail between his legs and never bothered us again.” She scoffed. “Guess even bullies back down when you stand up to them.”
Stunned, I tried to process it all.
“I should’ve seen George for what he was from the start,” she said quietly. “I should’ve tried harder to talk you out of dating him. I thought with all his money, at least you’d be looked after. Even if the marriage was loveless. I had no idea he’d be just as bad as your father.”
I felt the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over as she grabbed my hand.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. That I couldn’t spare you that pain. I thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you toward security and stability. But abuse is abuse, no matter how fancy the wrapping. And you deserve so much better than that.”
Heather snorted derisively beside me. “What does abusive even look like? Because from where I’m sitting, seems like you had a real hard time spotting it.”
The silence that followed stretched out between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. I fidgeted with the napkin in my lap, twisting it around my fingers as I searched for the right words.
“You’re right,” my mom finally said. “I didn’t know how to see it for what it was. Not with Anthony. I was broken when I met Sam.” She looked at me, and her face softened. “You were only five years old when I met him, Zoey. I was a single mom struggling to make ends meet. Working myself to the bone just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I was still sleeping with a loaded pistol under my pillow, too afraid to let my guard down. Even with Sam. I never told him about it. Never wanted him to know just how deep that fear ran.” She sighed. “I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping it all locked away. Putting on a brave face for you girls, and for Sam. But all I did was teach you the wrong lessons. Teach you to swallow your pain. To settle for less than you deserve.
“I tried my best to be a good partner to your dad, Heather.” Mom looked at my sister. “But the trauma, the abuse, the cheating... it shattered my trust in men. In relationships. In myself. I was so distant with you girls when you were growing up. Always holding a part of myself back, afraid that I’d teach you the wrong things about love and family. That I’d pass onmy own brokenness.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “And in the end, that’s exactly what I did. By pushing you away, by not being there when you needed me most... I left you vulnerable. I allowed a monster like George to worm his way into your life. And for that, I’ll never forgive myself.” She gave a deep sigh. “I thought... I hoped that by leaving, you’d go back to Sam and Heather. That you’d have the stability and support you needed. But then you told me you were pregnant, that you felt trapped with George.”
I shook my head, the regret a palpable ache in my chest.
“I should have been there for you. Should have seen the signs. Should have protected you from making the same mistakes I did. But I was too caught up in my own pain, my own failings as a mother, to be the support you needed.”
I glanced over at Heather, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet throughout our mom’s confessions. Her green eyes were hard, her jaw clenched tight.
“You’re right, Mom,” she said. “You should have been there. She needed you... we both did. When you left, it felt like my whole world was crumbling. Like I wasn’t enough to make you stay.” Heather’s hands curled into fists on the tabletop, her knuckles white. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt? How much it still hurts? I was just a kid. A kid who needed her mother. But you were so wrapped up in your own pain, your own issues, that you didn’t even stop to think about what it would do to us.”
I wanted to wrap my sister in my arms.
“I... I’m so sorry, Heather,” Mom replied. “I never meant to hurt you like that. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone. I thought?—”
“You thought wrong,” Heather said. “And it wasn’t just us you hurt. What about Dad? He loved you so much. He wouldhave done anything for you. But you just... you just left him. Leftus, and you took my sister with you.”
Mom swallowed hard. “I know. I know I hurt your dad. I hurt you. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But at the time, I felt like I was poisoning everything I touched. Like I was this broken, damaged thing that would only bring pain to the people I loved.”
Heather shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “That’s not an excuse. You don’t get to just... just abandon your family because you’re hurting. That’s not how it works.”
“You’re right,” Mom agreed. “It’s not an excuse. And I’m not trying to make excuses. I just... I want you to understand where I was coming from. I want you to know that I never stopped loving you—any of you. Even when I was at my lowest, even when I couldn’t bear to face myself... I always loved you.” Mom leaned forward, one hand hovering hesitantly over mine, the other over Heather’s. “I know I’ve made mistakes. So many mistakes. I should have been there for you, Heather, because a girl needs her mother. At the very least, I shouldn’t have taken your sister with me. But I did, because she’s not a shifter, and I saw what pack life was like. To me, as a human, it was the same as being controlled by Anthony. Deep inside me, I know it isn’t true, but back then… I couldn’t let Zoey grow up like that. It was different with you, Heather. You belong in a pack. It’s your nature.” She shook her head. “And you, Zoey, I should have protected you from George. I saw the signs, but I didn’t... I just didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think that I’d let you walk into the same kind of nightmare I’d lived through.”
I bit my lip, the old pain and betrayal rising up in my chest. “But you did. You let me leave with him. You let me think that... that what he was doing to me was normal. That it was my fault.”
Mom’s face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know. I know, and I’m so sorry. I thought... I thought maybe itwould be different for you. But I should have known better. I should have warned you, should have fought for you. The way I never fought for myself.”
I squeezed her hand, my vision blurring. “I don’t blame you. Not really. I know... I know how hard it is to break that cycle. How hard it is to see it when you’re in the middle of it. I just wish things had been different. For both of us.”
Mom nodded, her grip tightening on my hand. “Me too, baby. Me too. But we can’t change the past. All we can do is try to do better now. To be there for each other, to support each other. I want to do that. I want to be the mother you deserve. If... if you’ll let me.”
I felt a small, fragile hope bloom in my chest, nestled among the scars and the pain. “I want that, too. I really do. But it’s going to take time. For both of us.”
Mom smiled through her tears, and I saw a glimmer of the strong, loving mother I’d always longed for. “I know. But we have time. We have all the time in the world.”
“I’d like to have you more involved in my life and Ro’s life. He needs a grandmother. And I... I think I need my mom.”
Mom’s smile widened, even as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “Oh. I’ve missed so much. So much. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you. To Ro. To you, Heather. I know I can’t erase the past, but I can try to build a better future. With all of you.”
Emotion clogged my throat. For so long, I’d carried this anger, this resentment toward my mother. But sitting here, seeing her own pain and regrets, I realized that holding onto those feelings was not only hurting me, but both of us.
“I’m sorry, too, Mom,” I whispered. “For pushing you away. For not trying harder to understand.” I shook my head. “I was so scared of becoming like you and letting history repeat itself.”
