“I know, honey…boy, do I know. I don’t ever want to take that away from you, but I want you to live with the truth of the situation and be realistic. False hope has more potential of hurting you than not having any hope at all.”

This was a lot for a seventeen-year-old to deal with. She was at an age where her greatest worry should have been whether the boy she crushed on liked her back, and yet here she was dealing with pain that should never have been inflicted in the first place.

She listened to what I said, and then she placed her head back on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other while dealing with our own thoughts. She cried, but I stayed strong for her. After not having a mother to care for her all these years, I wanted to be there for her in that capacity. And mothers stayed strong for their children. They gave them whatever they needed before they even thought about themselves, and in this moment, I didn’t want to think about myself, and what I needed. If I did, I knew I would fall apart completely. My mother had torn the last shred of hope from my soul.

* * *

I stayed with Magan long into the night. When I finally got home at around ten, I had a long, warm shower and let my tears fall.

Each tear sliced down my cheek with the pain of rejection, abandonment and love that had never been returned.

Tomorrow I would be okay, but tonight I would let it all consume me.

Tonight I would finally say goodbye to my mother.

26

Griff

Fuck.

I re-read Sophia’s text.

Sophia: I’m home now.

Me: Is Magan okay?

She hadn’t replied and when I’d called, she hadn’t answered. Since she’d let me know earlier that she wouldn’t be home tonight because Magan had phoned her in distress, I’d been concerned. The worry in Sophia’s voice had been enough to worry me. I’d made her promise she’d let me know when she was home so I knew she was safe. To not hear back from her now caused me even greater concern.

I grabbed my keys and headed out to my bike.

When I pulled up outside Sophia’s house a little while later, I was surprised to find it in complete darkness. Even if she’d gone to bed straight away, she liked to keep one light on in the house. It was one of her quirky things she did – she’d told me it was something that had carried over from her childhood, and she hadn’t been able to let it go.

I used my key and let myself in, heading straight for her bedroom. When I found her naked and sobbing on her bathroom floor, my heart crashed into my chest. She lay in the dark and wailed, and I felt every ounce of her pain. Her hurt engulfed her to the point she didn’t hear me come in. When I crouched next to her, and placed my hand on her shoulder, her head snapped up, and she stared at me through eyes I wasn’t sure even saw me.

Grief.

Devastation.

Heartbreak.

I saw it all in her eyes, and if I could have taken it all away for her, I would. Instead, I scooped her into my arms and carried her to her bed. She wrapped her arms around me, buried her face in my neck and sobbed. Her body shuddered with her cries, and I wondered what the fuck had happened to bring on this level of pain.

Placing her on the bed, I found one of her t-shirts and put it on her. I then sat on the bed with my head against the headboard, and pulled her into my arms. She curled into me, almost sitting in my lap, and continued to cry. Long, deep, agony-filled wails of hurt filled the room. I sensed this must be to do with her mother, because these were not cries from a fresh cut, but rather from a long-held pain.

Eventually, she lifted her head to look at me. “She’s gone.” She gulped a breath and continued, “I’d given up on her, but then Magan told me she had a photo of me and knew my address, and I thought maybe – just maybe – she’d been keeping track of me for a reason. I thought maybe this time really would be different.” A sob escaped her mouth, and I watched as her face crumpled with more tears. “None of it was true. She didn’t mean a word she said to me at the hospital, and now she’s gone. And I have to find a way to pick my pieces back up and put myself together again.”

Fuck.

Why do people hurt each other, over and fucking over?

I wiped her tears and then tried to kiss them away. Trouble was, there were a lifetime of tears flowing down Sophia’s cheeks, and no amount of effort from me could stop them. One person held the key to those tears, and she’d proven her lack of interest in stopping them.

“You’re not alone anymore, Sophia,” I said.

She didn’t reply straight away, but, eventually, she whispered, “Thank you.”

She placed her head against my body again, and stayed there for a long time as her tears slowly dried up. I would have held her there all night if she’d needed it. When she’d finished crying, she sat up and pulled her t-shirt off. “I need your skin tonight, Griff. Nothing else, just your skin next to mine. Can I have that?” Her words came out almost as if she was begging me.

I nodded and lifted my t-shirt over my head. “Whatever you need, sweetheart, you’ve got.” I stood so I could remove the rest of my clothes and then settled into the bed next to her.

She placed her head on my chest, and wrapped her arms and legs around me. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she murmured.

I knew exactly what she meant because I had the same thought about her.

And I would make damn sure those tears were replaced with a smile.

* * *

The next morning, I woke to find her in the kitchen, cooking breakfast, a smile on her face. I moved into her and slid my arms around her waist. After I’d kissed her, I said, “It’s good to see a smile on your face, but I’m not convinced. You don’t need to put on a happy face around me, sweetheart.”