A glass of whiskey sat in the other.
My mother’s protests still echoed in my head, but they couldn’t drown out the question that kept repeating over and over in my mind.
What did you do, Mom?
I began replaying old family gatherings in my head.
The subtle comments.
The small jabs.
The passive-aggressive remarks my mother used to throw Suzie’s way.
Suzie had always laughed them off.
But now, looking back, I could see the hurt hiding behind her smiles.
The realization made my chest ache.
So I started digging.
Both literally and emotionally.
While going through Suzie’s things, I found her jewelry box tucked away in the closet. I set it aside, but then I noticed a small slip of paper peeking out from beneath the lid.
Curious, I opened it.
Inside was a letter written in my mother’s handwriting.
My heart began pounding as I read it.
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”
My hand trembled as the letter slipped from my fingers.
This was it.
