Once Evelyn finished, a heavy, suffocating, silence sliced through the room pressing down on everyone in the room.
Jake stood there, frozen. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his fingers digging into his palms. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst through his ribs.
He had heard every word, every piece of the story that shattered the foundation of his life.
His throat ached, but no sound came out.
He couldn't look at Evelyn's tearful eyes or Charles's broken expression. Because suddenly, he understood everything. The overprotection. The deep, fearful love. The way Evelyn sometimes clung too tightly whenever he left home for too long while he was growing up.
The way she'd insisted on taking him and Raymond to school despite her work. He'd thought it was the love of his mother. But now he knew better. It wasn't just love. It was grief wearing the face of love. She'd been scared she'd lose them too.
