The following day, I went to my parents’ house. I didn’t know if my mom would offer any answers, but I needed to ask anyway.
I needed to understand why she’d left, because I’d realized, after dinner with my sisters, that I’d held in that pain for so long that it had made me believe there was something wrong with me.
“Mari, sweetheart! This is a nice surprise.” My mom hugged me, smelling of lemon and patchouli. “Your dad is at the store. Something about a hydrangea crisis. I didn’t ask. I told him that he’s retired, but he gets bored around the house. He never was a golfer, you know.”
My mom always seemed so happy, so normal. What had pushed her to leave her daughters and husband all those years ago?
“Mom,” I said quietly, “I need to tell you something. About Liam and I, and…other thing
