Dan
Around four I finally moved. Showered hot enough to scald, stood under the spray until my skin turned red and the water ran cold. Dried off, pulled on sweats, made coffee I didn't drink. Sat at the kitchen counter staring at the note I'd left him during some mornings "Love you. -D" still on the fridge where he'd stuck it with a magnet shaped like a tiny gun because he'd thought it was funny.
Funny.
Nothing felt funny now.
Sun started creeping in around five-thirty. Gray light through the blinds. I hadn't slept. Eyes burned, head throbbed, chest felt caved in.
I heard the key in the lock at six-fifteen sharp. Mom always did arrive exactly when she said she would.
The door opened slowly. She stepped in smaller than I remembered, scarf over her head, carry-on rolling behind her. Eyes found me immediately. She dropped the handle, crossed the room fast, arms open.
I stood up so quick the stool scraped loud. Then I was in her arms, face buried in her shoulder like I was ten again and the world was too big.
She held me tight, one hand stroking my back in slow circles. "Oh, baby," she whispered. "What did you do?"
I broke again. Not the loud sobs from earlier, quieter this time, shuddering, hot tears soaking her scarf. "I fucked up, Mom. I fucked up so bad."
She didn't shush me. Just held on. "Tell me."
We ended up on the couch. Me with my head in her lap, her fingers carding through my hair like when I was a kid with nightmares. I told her everything, Sky moving in, the grief, the case, the drinking, the knotting, the necklace, the perfect day, Lena and Jax cornering me, the kiss I shouldn't have returned, moaning his name, sending him away, the fight, the slammed door.
She listened. And didn't interrupt me. Just kept petting my hair, nodding slowly.
When I finished, voice hoarse and empty, she was quiet for a long minute.
Then: "You love him."
I nodded against her thigh. "Yeah."
"And you sent him away to protect him."
"Yeah."
She sighed, long and tired. "Daniel. Sweetheart. You're so much like your father sometimes it scares me."
I snorted wetly. "That's not a compliment."
"It is when I say it." She tilted my chin up so I'd look at her. Eyes still bright, even tired. "You think pushing people away keeps them safe. But it doesn't. It just keeps you alone. And it keeps them hurting."
"I can't… " My voice cracked. "If the case gets compromised because of me, because I couldn't keep it professional. Sky loses everything. And I lose everything Again."
She cupped my face. "And if you keep doing this if you keep choosing the job over the person who makes you feel alive you lose everything. Again."
I closed my eyes. Tears slipped out anyway. "I don't know how to fix it."
"You start by admitting you were wrong." Thumb brushed my cheek. "You start by going after him. Apologizing. Begging if you have to. And then you figure out how to have both the job and the man who loves you back."
"What if he won't forgive me?"
She smiled small, sad, knowing. "Then you live with it. But you don't get to decide for him that he can't handle the risk. That's not protection, honey. That's control."
I sat up slowly. Looked at her. Really looked. The lines around her eyes deeper, skin paler, but still the same mom who'd taught me how to throw a punch and how to say sorry when I was wrong.
"I'm scared," I admitted, voice barely there.
"I know." She squeezed my hand. "But fear's a shitty reason to throw away love. Especially when time's short."
She didn't say for who. Didn't have to.
I nodded. Swallowed hard.
She leaned in, kissed my forehead. "Now go shower again you stink of misery. Then we're going to get breakfast. And you're going to tell me exactly how you're going to win that boy back."
I laughed weak and watery. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She stood, tugged me up with her. "Because I'm not dying without seeing my son happy. And you're not letting me down on that one, Daniel."
I hugged her again tight and desperate.
And for the first time since the door slammed last night, I let myself hope.
Just a little.
Just enough to start breathing again.