16. Chapter Sixteen - Stolen Peace #3
Just two days. That was all it had taken for me to get tangled up in him, and the worst part was how much sense it made.
I was the girl who never got attached, the one who stayed in control, who knew how to play the game better than anyone.
And now here I was hoping that when he came back, I’d still be the first thing on his mind.
When I stepped into the garage, my ma was already in the driver’s seat, the car humming softly. I paused, confused that I hadn’t noticed it earlier. I must’ve been too focused on Culver to register anything else. I climbed in and shut the door harder than necessary; my nerves were still buzzing.
“You’ve never kept something like that from me before,” I said, turning on her before I could talk myself out of it. “Why now?”
She shifted into drive, eyes fixed on the road, calm but firm. “I was asked to.”
I slumped into my seat, resting my elbow against the window while rain streaked across the glass outside. “And you just agreed?”
“Ira, what’s going on?” she asked, reaching over to turn on one of her calm classical playlists. Violins filled the car, soft and familiar. “Is he really that bad?”
I hesitated, searching for honesty without unraveling completely.
“He’s not bad,” I said quietly. “At least, not to me. But I feel… left out. Like I’m only around because I’m your kid. Like he’s doing me a favor. Like I’m some task he got stuck with.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her hands loosened slightly on the steering wheel.
“Why do you feel that way?”
I let out a quiet laugh that held no humor. “Ma, I don’t even know how to explain all of it. I’m just disappointed. In you, in him, in this whole situation. I feel like some chess piece people move around whenever it benefits them.”
Silence stretched between us before she finally spoke again, her voice gentle but steady.
“Ira, I just want you to give them a chance. Culver and his family are good people. Real people. And I know I haven’t always been around the way I should’ve been, but Julius promised me something important. More time with you. Time I’ve missed.”
She glanced at me briefly beneath the dim streetlights.
“I almost left you in America. Not because I didn’t want you with me, but because I knew how much you loved your life there. Amy. Your routines. I was scared. But Julius and Eunice told me something I’ll never forget: leaving you behind would’ve been the biggest mistake I could’ve made.”
Her voice softened.
“I may not always be physically present, but Ira, you are always on my mind. Always. I love you, and I want to show you the world the way I’ve come to know it.”
The words landed harder than I expected. Heat burned behind my eyes, and I turned toward her quickly, trying to steady my breathing. “Ma…”
She smiled faintly, eyes still on the road. “You don’t hate me for bringing you here, do you?”
“No,” I answered at once. “Never. I love you, and I don’t wanna be anywhere else.”
She glanced at me again, softer this time. “I’m sorry I haven’t always been there, ladybug.”
I groaned, but a smile still tugged at my mouth. “Why?”
“Why haven’t I been there?” she teased. “Or why do I still call you that?”
“You know which one,” I muttered, leaning my head back against the seat. “One ladybug landing on me and one Halloween costume shouldn’t have followed me for life.” I paused before adding more quietly, “Still better than being called ‘little lamb,’ though.”
She turned slightly. “Who calls you that?”
“…Culver,” I admitted, heat rushing into my face instantly.
She hummed, as though the answer explained everything, and didn’t say another word after that. The rest of the drive passed quietly.
When we got home, I stepped out, but she called after me. “I’ve got a few things to finish up at the office. I’ll be back later, okay?”
“Okay, Ma.” I waved as her car disappeared down the street.
By the time I reached my room, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones.
Boxes still sat scattered everywhere, leaving the space unfinished and unfamiliar.
The room didn’t feel like mine yet, and somehow that bothered me more tonight than it had before.
Since sleep felt impossible anyway, I started unpacking just to give myself something else to focus on.
Hours passed in a blur of moving clothes, reorganizing shelves, and slowly carving out small pieces of comfort from the mess around me. Eventually, the room began to look lived in instead of temporary.
When I finally stopped, I stood there for a second, taking it all in. A small sense of accomplishment settled quietly beneath the exhaustion.
Maybe this place could eventually feel like home.
After getting ready for bed, I crawled beneath the covers and pulled them tightly around myself, hoping the heaviness of them might quiet my thoughts for a little while.
Maybe sleep would finally shut my brain off.
Maybe, for a few hours at least, I could stop thinking about everything that happened tonight.
But as darkness settled around the room, one thought refused to leave me alone.
Even in my dreams, I had a feeling Culver would still find me.