Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ella

Adrenaline spiked through me. I wanted to be angry with my mother, but at the same time, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg to understand what had happened. Some other person must have forced her to do this.

My mother burst into tears, covering her face and shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I wracked my brain for any signs, any hints to lead me to a conclusion like this, but there were none.

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong stood and left the three of us alone. Noah took me by the hand; his other one grabbed the frames and put them on the table next to the bed. My mother stopped crying, going totally still. I didn't know how long she sat there with her hands over her eyes.

Compassion filled me. "What happened? Where is Dad?" It was the first time I'd thought of my father. Maybe it was because he never talked to me on the phone and he'd been emotionally distant my whole life.

My mother took my hand and looked at me with red, puffy eyes. She was worn out, and not just from what had happened today. "Your dad and I have been divorced for a long time—since right after you introduced us to Brian."

Confusion filled me. "You mean since I was married?"

"Yeah. We got into a big fight, and he left. Then I got divorce papers last year, right before Greg's death anniversary." She sniffed. "This year, when we talked … I just … I guess I went a little crazy."

My mind was clicking everything into place. "You must've been in town or come straight here."

She winced. "I was working in New York, but the closer I got to the death anniversary, and the divorce crowded in… I'd been pushing those thoughts away for a long time." She looked out the window, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I should have been there for you in so many ways. We should have been better parents to both of you. In fact, that's what your dad and I argued over. I felt horrible that we had shown up a week late for your wedding. When I said that to your dad, he told me he was done being a parent and done being a husband."

So many things I'd never understood ran through my mind. It was validating to hear my mom apologize for being a horrible parent, because she'd always sort of gaslit me about that. My father had been absent, both physically and emotionally. The fact he'd left her didn't surprise me.

My mother turned back to me. "I know it doesn't make sense, but I wanted there to be the right pictures in the house. Before I … left."

She meant … before she killed herself. I stumbled back.

Noah put a hand on my shoulder.

My mom sniffed. "At the last minute, I stopped by the house. I had to have these with me. I needed my family with me." She turned to Noah and shrugged. "You'll find the power is out again."

My voice was stuck in my throat. This moment was like a scene from a movie; it couldn't be real.

"I decided I wanted to die with those pictures today. Well, I thought I wanted to die. But I was out on those rocks long enough to do some reflecting."

Tearfully, I realized that she'd wanted to die the same way Greg had died. The way I'd almost died. I was so angry and hurt and confused. I wanted to yell at her, but my voice wouldn't work.

My mom shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Obviously, I can't even go through with killing myself. I didn't know what to do. What to say."

"You could've said you're sorry." The words burst out of me. "You could have been brave enough to come to me and tell me you're sorry." All those years of therapy were finally breaking through. For so long, I'd secretly wished for the chance to say this to my mother. "You could've come to me." My voice broke, leaving me feeling small and miserable.

She shook her head. "I couldn't. I was so ashamed. I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

I stared down at this pathetic person before shuffling off to stare out the window. If only I could be better than this. I didn't know what she needed or whether I should offer her anything.

My mom cried for a long time, and gradually my thoughts turned from anger to pain as I remembered my brother.

Then another feeling came over me. It was the same one I'd felt when Noah's dad led us in prayer at the lookout.

The Holy Spirit.

I started crying. My brother was here, trying to show me I needed to forgive my mother.

I turned to her and opened my arms. "It's okay. It's okay. I forgive you."