Chapter 26
Solo sat in her truck outside Janie’s office building, engine idling, watching the glass doors for her wife to emerge so she could get her home, hold her tight, and make sure she was actually okay.
The text about Janie’s mother had hit Solo like a physical blow, not because it was bad news, but because she knew what it would’ve cost Janie to do that. To finally stand up to the woman who’d spent Janie’s entire life making her feel small and never nearly good enough.
She wanted to hunt down Janie’s mother and tell her exactly what she thought of her exploitation of her daughter’s vulnerabilities.
She’d wanted to do something, anything, to fix this for Janie.
But Janie had spent her whole life with people trying to tell her what to do and what choices to make.
What she needed now was someone to just be there and “hold space,” as Rae called it, for whatever she was feeling.
Solo had to let Janie process in her own time and in her own way.
So she sat in the gentle heat of the sun shining through her windshield, gripping the steering wheel hard, heart in her throat, hoping this wouldn’t push her back into the oblivion of a deep depression.
When the doors finally opened and Janie walked out, Solo’s breath caught. Janie looked different. She didn’t appear to be the broken, dejected daughter like Solo had feared. There was no hint of devastation, or fragility, or any of the things Solo had braced herself for.
Janie looked tired, sure. That was a constant state of being when you were raising triplets and working full time. But she also looked lighter somehow. Like the impossible weight of her mother’s expectations were no longer bearing down on her.
Solo leaned across to push open the passenger door, and Janie climbed in.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, with Solo taking in Janie’s red-rimmed eyes and careful composure, scanning for cracks in case Janie was hanging onto an outward professional appearance while she disintegrated inside.
“Hi,” Janie said finally.
“Hi.” Solo tucked a strand of hair behind Janie’s ear. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Janie’s laugh was shaky. “I told my mother I was done with her, and I didn’t need her anymore. When she left, I called Rae, and now you’re here, and I’m wondering if I actually disowned my own mother or if I hallucinated the whole thing.”
“You did it.” Solo cupped Janie’s face, sure it was true. “You stood up for yourself. That’s amazing.”
Janie’s eyes filled with tears. “Why do I feel so strange about it? I should feel good, right? Relieved at least. But I just feel...like I’m in some sort of limbo, and I have no idea what’s supposed to happen next.”
Solo didn’t respond for a second while she tried to pull up another kernel of knowledge she’d learned from Rae.
“You’ve spent your entire life in survival mode around your mother.
Maybe your body doesn’t know what to do with the feeling of being safe from her yet.
It’ll take time.” She stroked Janie’s cheekbone with her thumb.
“And that’s okay. We’ve got plenty of that together. ”
Janie nodded and put on her seatbelt. “Can we go home? I just want to be with you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Solo put the car in gear and pulled out into traffic. They drove in silence for a while, Janie staring out the window at the city passing by, and Solo stealing glances at her whenever she could take her eyes off the road.
“Carmen has the girls until eight,” Janie said eventually. “She and Tom took them to the park, and then they’re going to get pizza. He texted while I was waiting for you.”
Solo smiled. “So we have the house to ourselves for a few hours.”
“Yeah.” Janie glanced at her briefly. “Would it be okay if you stayed with me for a little while? I know you probably need to get back to the garage—”
“The garage will be fine without me. Gabe and Shay have everything under control; they always do.” Solo took Janie’s hand and pressed it to her lips. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
They pulled in to their parking spot twenty minutes later, and some of Solo’s own tension eased as soon as she saw their house. Home. It was their safe place, the space they’d built together and nearly lost but were building again, with stronger foundations this time.
Inside, Solo helped Janie out of her suit jacket and watched her set down her bag with the kind of careful precision that indicated she was holding herself together through sheer force of will.
Solo recognized that look. She’d seen it on Janie’s face a hundred times over the past few weeks.
One wrong word, and she’d completely fall apart.
“Come here,” she said, opening her arms.
Janie walked into them like she’d been waiting for permission, and then she was pressed against Solo’s chest, shaking and making small, wounded sounds that shattered Solo’s heart into pieces. “I’ve got you,” she murmured into Janie’s hair. “You’re safe, I promise.”
They stood there in the entryway for a long time.
Her back started to ache from holding Janie’s weight, and the afternoon light shifted and changed through the windows.
But Solo didn’t move, or suggest they go sit down or get comfortable, or do anything other than this, because this was what Janie needed right now. To be held, and to fall apart.
Eventually, Janie’s shaking subsided, and her breathing evened out. She pulled back just enough to look at Solo’s face. Her eyes were red and swollen but clearer than they’d been in weeks.
“Sorry,” Janie said. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess. You’re working through something huge.” Solo brushed tears off Janie’s cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to apologize for having feelings.”
“I think I’m expecting her to call or show up again and find some new way to make me feel guilty for choosing myself over her.”
“And if she does, we’ll handle it.” Solo squeezed Janie’s waist a little tighter. “But I don’t think she’s going to. It sounds like you made it clear that you’re done, and she knows she can’t manipulate you anymore. She lost her power over you.”
“Has she?” Janie whispered. “Because eight-year-old me is still hanging around, not quite knowing what she’s supposed to do with what just happened.”
Solo took Janie’s hand and led her to the couch.
She tugged her down so they were sitting close, and then she pulled Janie’s legs over hers.
Her mind whirred with Rae’s words about the inner child and how important it was.
“That eight-year-old kid deserved better,” she said.
“She deserved a mother who saw how incredible she was. How smart, and kind, and brave. That kid deserved unconditional love, and she didn’t get it, and that’s not her fault.
That’s your mother’s failure, not yours. ”
“When she left the office, I felt an elated kind of freedom, but I think that was just adrenaline-fueled. Reality’s setting in now.
” Fresh tears spilled down Janie’s cheeks.
“I don’t know how to stop hearing her voice in my head, telling me I’m not enough and I’m a failure.
All I hear is that I’m a bad mother, a bad wife, and a bad daughter. A bad everything.”
“I know, baby. But that voice is a liar.” Solo squeezed Janie’s hand. “You want to know what I see when I look at you?”
“What?”
Janie glanced up, and the wounded, hopeful look in her eyes tore at Solo’s heart.
“I see you fighting. You keep showing up even though it’s hard, even though your brain is telling you that you don’t deserve good things.
I see you love our daughters so fiercely it takes my breath away.
You’re being brave enough to admit that you’re struggling and asking for help.
You’re working your ass off every single day to be better, do better, and feel better.
” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.
“I see my wife, my partner, and the woman I want beside me through everything for the rest of my life. And I am so fucking proud of you for standing up to your mother.”
That prompted more tears, and Solo pulled Janie close again.
“I’m so tired,” Janie whispered. “I’m so tired of fighting and trying to prove I’m worthy. I’m sick of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I know, baby, I know.” Solo relaxed back into the sofa, taking Janie with her, while she cried out weeks of accumulated fear, stress, and trauma. All of it poured out in harsh, painful sobs that made Solo’s chest ache with the desire to take it all away.
But she couldn’t. It wasn’t hers to take, Rae would say. Solo could only hold Janie through it, only be present, patient, and steady while Janie fell apart and put herself back together.
Eventually, the crying subsided into hiccups, then quiet breathing. Janie pulled back and looked at Solo with swollen eyes and the kind of raw vulnerability that made Solo want to build walls around her, protecting her from everything and everyone who’d ever hurt her.
“I love you,” Janie said. “I don’t think I say it enough. But I love you so much it scares me sometimes.”
Solo kissed the top of Janie’s head. “Why does it scare you?” she asked, though she often had the same thought.
“Because I’m afraid I’ll mess it up and disappoint you. One day, you might realize you and the girls would be better off without me.”
“Funny. I think the same thing all the time.” Solo’s heart fought against the crushing pressure of Janie’s devastating lack of self-worth. She had to keep talking, keep telling her the same things in the hope that sometimes Janie would really hear them. “Janie, look at me.”
Janie shifted and met her eyes.