Page 55 of Levi

“I know,” he said. “There is always a possibility of it not going well, but you have me here. I am your mate, and if she fucks with you, then she fucks withme.”

Hannah let out a small laugh, then squeezed his hand. He feigned a pained look, then brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed each one, warming her to her core.

“Go,” he murmured. “I will wait outside. Take as much time as you need.”

Hannah knew she really couldn’t be too long, but she trusted Levi enough to know she could truly take her time with it.

The big man rose from his seat and made headway to the door. Hannah watched him move, the muscles beneath his shirt straining as he ducked his head below the door frame. He shimmied past her mother, who didn’t seem to take notice.

Hannah blew out raspberries, then stood. She began walking to the front door, half of her thinking of saying fuck it and booking it out of there. The other side knew Levi was right; she wouldn’t get another chance quite like it ever again.

She felt herself moving through a slow-motion slipstream of her past as she approached a woman who essentially was the older version of her. Her long hair nearly touched the ground, and the closer Hannah got, the more life she could see flashing in her bright green eyes.

Hannah swallowed hard, reaching out and lightly touching her mother’s shoulder for the first time in years.

“Mom?”

Her mother turned from where she had been casually gazing and looked upon her daughter. Her eyes immediately became glassy with a circus of emotions.

“Hannah?” she said gleefully. “Hannah, what are you doing here?”

Hannah could feel her body shaking, her heart pounding faster like several punches were being taken into her chest. She shrugged in response, feeling like her behavior was connected to her subconscious more than anything else.

“Let’s sit down,” Hannah said.

She led her mother to the table she and Levi had been sitting at. Her mother sat in front of her, looking a little wary and puzzled.

“How did you know I was here?” her mother asked.

“I didn’t,” Hannah said, laughing nervously. “I was here with a … a friend, and I just saw you. Standing there.”

Her mother had placed her purse on her lap, almost acting as a shield.

“And you wanted to speak to me?” her mother asked, smiling.

Hannah closed her eyes, feeling the rage and grief of decades coming up in her throat. She didn’t want to simply react. She needed to think before she spoke; their relationship was as delicate as an origami crane.

“To be honest, I didn’t,” Hannah replied. “But my friend persuaded me to.”

Her mother relaxed, letting her purse fall to the floor below.

“They sound like a good friend,” she said.

Hannah nodded, looking away from the person who looked like her mother but wasn’t quite her. She no longer seemed exhausted or manipulative. She was reborn.

“I suppose you got my letter?” her mother asked after a beat of silence.

Hannah nodded again.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Hannah said. “It’s been so long, and I’ve just been … so, so hurt, Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes welled with tears again.

“I know. I understand. I meant it when I said you didn’t have to reply, nor was I expecting anything. I know I hurt you deeply, and so early in your life, and for so long. I don’t expect you to forgive me all at once, if ever.”

Hannah felt like her mother was being genuine. Nothing in her voice was peppered with resentment or anger the way it used to be.

Hannah met her mother’s eyes, doing everything she could not to look away.

---