Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“That’s because I was trying to respect your wishes. I would’ve been there if you’d allowed it. I would’ve been able to help you tell Gabriel. I would’ve helped you figure it all out.”
“Help?” She huffed with a slight shake of her head. “You would’ve helped me figure it all out? Really, Kierra?”
“Yes, really. I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve—”
“You killed my son!” she shouted, tears flooding her eyes. Her voice cracked as she pointed a finger toward me. “You caused all of this! You’re the reason that I had to figure anything out to begin with. You’re the reason I’ve been living this daily nightmare for all these years. So, how dare you say you would’ve helped. How dare you judge me for not telling Gabriel about, about…” She took a deep breath, stilling herself to keep from falling apart. If there was one thing Amma never did, it was fall apart. At least in public. She stilled herself long enough before shaking the tears from her eyes.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly before saying, “Just don’t say anything that relates to before the accident, okay?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I agreed with her request. “Okay. But Amma…you have to tell him about Elijah. You have to.” It wasn’t fair to keep such a big part of Gabriel’s history from him. It was one thing to blot out my storyline in his world, but Elijah? No. Elijah deserved to be remembered. Gabriel deserved to know every single detail about his beautiful little brother.
“Don’t tell me what I have to do. You get to live with your demons. Let me live with mine.”
“Amma—”
She grimaced as she glanced around the lobby, shifting the conversation. “A therapist, huh?”
Even though I was uncomfortable with the shift, I allowed it. Sometimes, certain topics were too hard to stay within for a long period of time. “Yes.”
“Do you have a PhD?”
“I do.”
“So you’re a doctor.”
“I am.”
Her scowl deepened as her smile lines turned into frown lines. “So you help people.”
“I try my best to, yes.” The tension in the space was thick, and I knew the conversation wasn’t going anywhere positive. Amma’s emotions were on high alert, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was ready to turn me into her punching bag.
She shook her head in disapproval. “Do you try to help people to make up for some of the karma you’ve built up over the years?” Amma hissed, her voice dripping with disdain and resentment. “Is it how you try to make peace with what you’ve done in your past? With how you killed my Elijah?”
Instead of instantly responding, I paused for a moment.
Mom taught me that whenever things were heated in the kitchen, it worked best to turn down the temperature on the stove instead of allowing things to boil over and make a bigger mess. I’d learned over time to speak slowly and with care. Just because Amma’s pot was boiling over didn’t mean that mine had to, too.
I could’ve matched her energy. I could’ve swung my words at her because she was coming after me and my character. I could’ve allowed her words to break me into a million pieces right then and there. I could’ve called her all types of names because she seemed to have no problem attacking me.
Instead, I stood still and said only a few words. Words that were loaded with truth and sorrow. “I’m so sorry you’re still hurting, Amma.”
Her eyes flashed with sadness, and that broke a little part of me.
Then I turned away and removed myself from the situation.
I walked into my office and shut the door behind me. My back fell against the closed door, and I took a few deep breaths with my eyes shut. My body began to shut down with the overwhelming feelings of the past few days. I always told my clients that if you didn’t deal with the internal issues, they would manifest on the outside. Be it your body getting sick, injured, or sliding down the back of a door and falling into an eruption of tears.
Amma’s words stung me so deeply because they held a heavy amount of truth within them. I did kill her son.
And I’d spend the rest of my life trying my hardest to forgive myself for a momentary mistake that cost Amma everything.
Because I killed her son.
When I closed my eyes, I was back there.
New Year’s Eve.
It was Elijah’s birthday, our little New Year’s Eve baby.
We celebrated at Amma and Frank’s house before Amma had to go into work for a night shift. Gabriel wanted us to stay in and stuff our faces with junk food and watch the ball drop on television, but I wanted to take a trip to Sky Hill—where snow tubing was taking place into the night. It was supposed to be a huge deal, with fireworks going off at midnight over the hillside.