Chapter 449

I stared at my mom for a moment before she pushed past me. She settled the tray at the end of the bed and poured two glasses. She spun around and handed me one before she climbed into my bed. “Come on, baby girl.”

I felt the resolve I had crumble under the weight of having my mom next to me. I shut the bedroom door and walked around the other side of the bed, sliding into it. I took a long sip from my glass before I placed it down on the bedside table.

“You don’t have to be here.” I turned to look at her, and she just smiled.

“I know.” She pulled the blanket over her legs and then pulled the tray onto her lap. “I know.” She grabbed a cracker from the tray and tossed it into her mouth. She took a minute to chew and then took a long sip from her glass before she looked at me again. “But I’m not going to sit out there while you cry in here.” She looked down at the pile of letters in the middle of the bed. “Is this what’s making you cry?” She grabbed one of the open ones and read it. I watched her eyes bounce across the page until she dropped the letter to her lap and looked at me. “Oh, baby.”

I turned and grabbed my glass of wine, chugging it. “It’s…” I shook my head. “It’s harder than I imagined having to read through these letters.” I held out my glass, and she refilled it.

“Why are you reading through the letters?” She reached out and grabbed another. “Are they out of order?” She looked up, confused.

I nodded. “He wrote me a letter a week, but none were delivered.”

My mom looked down at the letters. “Why?”

“Why did he write to me?” I shrugged. “I assume because he didn’t like how we left it.”

“No.” She slapped my arm. “Why weren’t they delivered?”

I wiped my face. “Because Daddy decided I didn’t need them.” She sucked in her breath.

“Your dad thinks he knows best.” She sighed as she looked at the unopened pile. “What can I do to help?”

I looked down at the next letter. “Stay with me.” I grabbed the next one. “I don’t know if I can do this.” My hands shook as I broke the seal.

My mom took it from my hands. “You don’t have to. I’ll read it to you.” She slipped the paper from my hands and unfolded it.

“Dear Amy.” Her voice was soft as I sank against the headboard. “It’s been a month since I saw your face last, and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that I can’t live without you.” My mom took a small sip of wine and pressed her lips together.

“Your scent haunts me, like a specter in my life. Even if it’s imagined, it still haunts me. I turn a corner and I catch it on the breeze. I can’t tell if it’s magic or just the magic of you. Someone is chasing me, using you as enticement. And they are smart to do it.” My mom looked up. “I know by now you must be wondering why I stay away. Why, if I am this obsessed with you, why do I hide from you? The answer is simple. Your father.” I growled, and I saw her lips turn up. “He has this plan. And although I fucking hate it, it makes sense. I hate that it makes sense.” My mom sighed as she shook her head. “Your father and his plans.”

She looked at me with sad eyes. “Your dad thinks that this is the perfect time to get closer to the women the council is pushing on me: Nina, Verity, and their ilk. He knows that someone is using magic on me. He said he can tell, but he doesn’t know who it is. It’s honestly the perfect opportunity. We can start to flush out who has been using magic against us. But if there is one thing that I could ask of you, can you try to forgive me? Please. I can’t stand not speaking to you. Rowan.” My mother took a deep breath before she folded the letter back up and slid it into the envelope.

I shook my head. “Why does it hurt so much?” I rubbed my chest.

She sighed as she grabbed the next letter. “Because he mattered.”

“What?” I looked at her before reaching over and grabbed a cracker.

“He mattered. Like, really mattered. His opinion, his time, his feelings for you. All of it mattered to you.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “And it hurts because you loved him… by the looks of it, may still love him.”

I growled. “I shouldn’t, though. He broke me.”

My mom sighed. “From the sounds of it, it wasn’t his choice.”