71. Lily
LILY
Her entire body was made of lead. She dragged herself into the kitchen, collapsing on a chair, too stunned to cry. Somehow her shock—the sight of him walking away from her, hopping the chain-link fence into the neighbor’s yard to avoid going back through her house—had soaked up all her tears.
Then her mother touched her. She smoothed Lily’s hair and Lily started to sob.
She’d never cried the way she cried now.
She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, all she could do was cry so hard that she thought she was going to shake apart.
The muscles over her ribs cramped and knifed pain into her side.
If her body would let her do anything other than weep, she would have screamed.
The pressure in her chest was unbearable.
She wanted to die, for real, right then, and just get it the fuck over with, because nothing, no death, could be as bad as the way she felt.
When her sobs turned to hiccupping shudders, her mom released her long enough to make tea. Arms crossed on the table, Lily stared blankly after her. When a mug of tea appeared, she picked it up by the tag, plunking it up and down like it was a bobber.
“He’s gone,” she rasped.
“I know, honey.” Her mom stroked her hair, and Lily quivered out another sob. “I’m so sorry.”
Lily turned to her mother, rage building with nowhere to go. “How could you do this to me? How could you know everything you knew, seen what they’d done, and still let me be born?”
Her mother recoiled from the question. It landed as ruthlessly as she’d meant it. Her mom was silent for a long time while she collected her thoughts, bundled them up into something that wouldn’t make everything worse.
“It was never a choice to me. I loved you as soon as I knew you existed, even with everything that meant, even for what that knowledge cost.” Lily could see it then, every inch of sorrow in the fine lines on her face.
“I knew you were going to be extraordinary. I knew I would trade any amount of grief to know you, even just for a single day.”
“It can’t possibly be worth it.” Her voice broke.
Her mom gave her a sad, knowing smile. “But it is. It was from the moment I saw you. I know you don’t understand. You don’t need to understand. You only need to believe me.”
Lily just cried. Her mom held her hand.
“I think if you asked Sebastian, he’d say the same thing. The way he looked standing on our porch…oh, Lily.” She squeezed Lily to her, crushing all the air, all the tears, out of her.
“But he left.”
Her mom laughed gently. “Of course he left. What else could he do? But I don’t think he’s gone forever.”
It was too sweet an idea to be true, so Lily ignored it. If she believed it and her mom was wrong, well, that would be unsurvivable. Lily turned to the safety of bitterness.
“It’s my life. How could you take that choice from me?”
“I had to make it for you, baby. I had to trust that it was the right one.” She shook her head, scoffing. “Would you really prefer that none of your life ever happened? Would you really rather have never danced, climbed mountains, fallen in love?”
Even though she wanted to argue, retreat further into her grief, she knew the truth.