Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen… Twenty-two.

I counted every step that I took in the direction where Chloe was leading us.

The strangling feeling tightened around my throat stealing a breath or two from my lungs, because maybe I knew who was here. I knew it was him.

It was this aura that grew thicker and denser as I closed the distance between us. It was this conflicting dilemma of whether I wanted to run into his arms, or run away from him. It was this excitement of seeing him after so many days but not being able to express what exactly I was feeling.

It was this fear of realizing that nothing had changed between us ever since the last time we’d been in the same room. The time we’d went different ways.

Chloe clutched my hand tightly one last time before the touch slipped away from me completely. We stopped before a huge wooden door and I felt a hand at the low of my back.

“I’ll be hovering around but I swear I won’t eavesdrop.” Chloe said, making me flash her a little smile, before she disappeared down the hallway.

When I turned around, my heart was in my mouth, stomach coiling uncontrollably.

I could do this. I could see him and not melt to the floor like a pulp. Because that was what I was around him; a stupid loose-limbed pulp.

Gathering my scattered thoughts, I reached forward and knocked.

Breathe Maeve. Just Breathe.

It didn’t matter if this was the last time I was seeing him, I would make the most out of this last moment. When it came to Ian, I would always make an exception.

Just breathe–

The doors opened. I looked up, and tensed immediately.

Surely, two pairs of clear blue eyes stared back at me, lips slightly parted, throat moving with a gulp.

Ian stared at me so intently, as if memorising my features, as if he actually missed seeing me so up close. He stepped forward and my lungs stopped working for a long second, refusing to let me breathe. My head ducked down when his scent enveloped me, making my head swoon.

It had been so long since I had been this close to him. Too long. I wanted to hold him. Touch him. Feel him. Kiss him. But I knew if I looked up, I’d be a…you guessed it. A pulp.

Two fingers slipped below my chin and tipped my head back to meet the blazing eyes staring down at me.

“Maeve,” his voice travelled straight through me, dipping into my skin, toying with my nerves, until I could not think straight.

“Ian,” my reply was a whisper falling softly onto his lips.

I needed to do something. Say something. Those two fingers under my chin were heating up my face at a splendid pace.

“I…” His jaws ticked as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I shouldn’t be here.”

No. You should be.

I opened my mouth to reply but before words could formulate in my brain, Ian pushed away from me. A very needy protest stirred through my chest, but my will ground it down before it could escape my lips. Ian’s face twisted into a half-hearted smile, one that didn’t reach his beautiful eyes. He reached for me, and I didn’t step away as he took my hand and led me inside the room, walking backward, not breaking his eyes away from me.

When a few feet inside, he searched for my eyes and said, “I hope I could take back whatever I said, sweetheart. But I can’t.” his throat moved with a swallow. “Consider this an apology.” The smile faltered from his face as he reached forward and planted a feather light kiss against my forehead, making my heart crack with a silent cry.

I blinked at him in confusion and tightened my fingers around his when he tried to peel them away from me.

Where was he going? I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want any apology as long as he was here with—

Ian stepped aside from my area of vision, revealing a figure standing at the opposite end of the room. My rising protest simmered down.

A lady stood at a distance, facing away from me. The evening sun casted a halo of golden light around her silhouette, as she motionlessly peered outside the window from her spot.

The door behind me shut with a thud, vaguely making me aware of Ian’s departure, but my focus steadied on the lady in a knee-length skirt and grandma cardigan.

She felt familiar, although I hadn’t seen her face yet.

Upon hearing the door shut, she stirred from her place. She began turning, steps small and restricted. Careful. The sunlight scattering around her disturbed my vision momentarily, making me squint my eyes.

Her body frame was thin and petite, brown hair like golden threads against the sun.

When my vision adjusted to her face and my brain registered what I was seeing, my eyes widened with a soft gasp slipping through me.

A pair of droopy brown eyes stared back at me, a small smile drawn across her full lips as she mumbled something my way.

But I couldn't hear her.

I had lost the ability to comprehend words, my head was empty. My fists clenched so hard on my sides, that I was sure my nails had dug into my palms.

How can this be?

The lady stepped toward me and my vision blurred again, followed by a warm droplet sliding down my cheek.

What was happening?

“Maeve…”

A sob broke through my chest, making me slap a hand against my mouth.

No. No. No. It was not true.

It can’t be.

My chin trembled, eyes burning with brimming tears. I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to be here. Not with my—

“Do you not recognize me?” her smile was tender, eyes bloodshot, as a hand came forth to brush my cheeks.

I recognized that touch. I recalled craving that touch ever since I could remember anything. But this was not supposed to be real. It was supposed to be one of those dreams where I pretended everything was good in my life. Where I had a family, a normal job, many friends and unending happiness.

Because those things were only possible in dreams. At least in my case.

I withdrew my hand from my lips and gulped down another sob which was surfacing. Maybe she would go away once I call for her. It'd always happened in my dream.

“M-Mom?” I croaked out, blinking furiously.

She didn’t disappear. She was still there simply smiling at me. A motherly softness in her eyes that warmed me from the inside.

“Thank Heavens, I thought I was too old to be recognized by my own daught—”

I flung my arms around her and buried my face into her shoulder, sobbing so hard that it became difficult to breath. I couldn't breathe. My chest was tightening, stomach coiling. My heart was somewhere between aching and healing.

“It’s really you." I mumbled uncertainly. "Please tell me it’s you, Mom.”

My mother ran her hands up and down my spine, softly hushing me, like she used to do when I was little. “It’s me, Maeve. Mom’s right here.”

Oh, my God. She is real.

I was hugging my mother, touching her, crying against her shoulder and soaking her cardigan. But she did not push me away. This was not a dream. It was really her.

And she was here. With me.

When senses returned after God knew how long, my head was in Mom’s lap, and her fingers softly threaded through my hair, making me shut my eyes with a sigh.

“What have you done with your hair?” she grumbled. “I liked your hair dark.”

I chuckled, still sniffling. “Did you?”

It was the reason why I dyed my hair. I wanted her to scold me for doing it. I wanted her to touch my hair and make a face then tell me to dye it back to black. Because that was what mothers did. And even if that time she wasn't around to do that, now she was.

“This suits you though.” She mumbled, voice wavering toward the end, making me turn my head and look up at her. Her eyes were teary again. And it pained me to see her like that.

It reminded me of the last time I had seen her. When I had wished to see tears in her eyes, but all I could see was plain disgust. Something I hadn't wanted to see in the eyes of the only family I had.

Around a year after I had started working at Blue Heaven, she had found out about it. And like any mother would in such a scenario, she had freaked out.

“Is that how you’re paying for my medicines and treatment?” she'd spat and slapped me right across the face, making me stumble back by two steps. By that point, I was used to her thrashings. It was an everyday thing for me. “You’re selling your body for money? Is this what I raised you for? Is this what I taught you?”

Despite knowing that it was her anger speaking, I retorted. "You are alive. That’s all you need to worry about. Don’t make a fuss–”

She flung the crate of her medicines across the room. The glass bottles smashed against the wall and scattering around into tiny pieces, liquid strong-scented medicine splashing everywhere.

“I don’t want to live if this is what it costs." Her droopy eyes hardened. "I’d rather die.”

My jaws clenched with suppressed fury. “I’m doing all this for you. So that I don’t have to see you die. How can you say something like that?”

My mother had looked at me with a venomous look. And in that moment, I did not recognize the woman I was seeing. It was like seeing another soul in the body of my mother who was the gentlest human I’d ever know in my life.

I had approximately three seconds to gather my senses, before she marched across the room, and rammed her head against the nearest wall. The thump so loud, it made me flinch.

“Mom! No!” I grabbed her by the shoulder.

She pushed me back, her elbow digging right below my ribs and I stumbled over the broken pieces of glass bottle on all fours. Pain busted through the skin on my knees and palms. I screamed.

She continued ramming her head, until there was a red patch of blood against the pale walls and her own forehead.

People of the shelter home rushed inside the room at my screams. Someone pulled Mom away. Someone collected me into their arms.

I couldn’t scream anymore. I was numb.

But before they took her to the hospital, I remembered looking at her to make sure she was not hurt too much.

Her face was covered in blood that was trickling down her forehead.

She looked at me and pointed a bloody finger at me. “You’re just like your father. Sleeping around with people for money.” She spat on the floor. “That’s what you are. Your father's daughter. A prostitute.”

That was the last time I had seen her face.

The next day I was out of the shelter home with my stuffs, and slept at the club’s store room for days, until one day Michael found me and took me home with him.

“…Maeve.”

I blinked back to the present when her soft voice fell on my ears. Mom stared down at me with a confused look. “Where did you just go?”

I snuggled against her lap and pulled her hand down over my head, urging her to stroke my hair. “Nowhere pleasant.”

She softly caressed my head, brushing my hair back from my face, running her fingers below my eyes and wiping the remnants of tears. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?” She asked, making my fingers twitch against her lap. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, Maeve. Whatever I said. It was not me. It was–”

“A phase.” I cut her off, smiling softly when I recalled Gretchen’s words. “Every hard time is just a phase, Mom, and it will pass. It always does. Doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Mom chuckled. “You’ve really grown up, haven't you?”

A warm droplet trickled down my temple. I turned my head to see tears streaming down her face.

My throat tightened. “Mom…”

“I’m so sorry, Maeve. I should have been with you. Watching you grow up. Teaching you things every mother wants to pass down to her child. I was so engrossed in mending my own broken heart that I didn’t realize there was another heart breaking with mine.” She shook her head. "You're nothing like your father, Maeve. You've grown into the woman I'd always wanted you to be. Strong-willed and steadfast. And I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you. Just... forgive Mom for what she did. If you could."

I sat upright, wiping at the tears that had escaped against my restraint, before turning around to put my arms around her. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s all in the past.” I sniffled back another cry. “There are still so many things you need to teach me. Won’t you?”

Mom silently cried and nodded to my question. “I will do my best in the time we have now, together.”

When I pulled back and wiped her tears away and my own, a knock at the door drew both our attentions.

Chloe pocked her head inside with a small smile and teary red eyed. “Can I join?”

“No.” I sniffled, and Chloe’s smile dropped.

Mom nudged me with narrow eyes then shifted her eyes to the girl at the door. “Of course, darling. Come on in.”

Chloe made a small jump then padded in through the door, and squeezed in between me and Mom.

"Hey—"

“Mrs. Adams, you should teach me things too. I can share classes with Maeve.” She chimed.

I gaped at her. “Excuse me, but no. And you said no eavesdropping.”

Chloe rolled her eyes as she turned to me. “I was making sure my future sister-in-law is okay.”

“I was with my mother. What would have— wait, what did you call me?” Heat crawled up my face and a snort broke out through her.

“Why? Do you not want to be my sis-in-law?”

My wide eyes travelled to Mom who was eyeing me with a suspicious smile. There was not a hint of confusion.

She knew. God, she knew.

I groaned, breaking my eyes away from both of them. “Ugh, you all are in this together.”

Both of them started laughing as I folded my arms across my chest and huffed out a breath. My face was on fire and stomach doing the delicious coils again.

Sister-in law? Jeez.

Chloe threw an arm around my neck and pulled me toward her. “Don’t worry. If you think this is the first time I embarrassed you in front of your mother, you’re wrong.”

My eyes shifted to her in panic. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Mrs. Adams was here two days ago. We all had dinner together.” She grinned.

My jaws unhinged. “What?”

Mom nodded from behind Chloe, looking like she was recalling the merry moments she spent with them. Childish jealousy spiked through my blood vessels.

“Yes, we even showed her around the city for a whole day. Sad you missed. But blame Ian for that. It was his plan.”

“Plan to leave me out?” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the stupid little flutter in my chest.

Of course he had brought her here before meeting me. Of course he had to make her feel like a family by arranging a family dinner. Of course he had to show her around the city so that she could see the world outside the shelter home.

Of course he did all that. We were talking about Dr Ian Nathaniel Cole. My sexy, considerate psychiatrist.

How stupid it was that my mother, whom I hadn't seen in years was sitting with me and still, still my eyes longed to see him. I should've cried some more because I missed my mother, but the flutter in my chest wouldn’t stop.

I had found my family, but my home was still out of reach. Because home was where Ian was. And he was not here.

“How is Ian?” I asked Chloe.

She sighed heavily. “He is…fine.”

Fine? Just fine?

I needed more information, but with my mother sitting right here, that was all I could fish out. She was already giving me that look. One I had only ever seen in Chloe’s eyes before.

Chloe might have read my mind even before I could decide what I wanted. I felt a hand against my shoulder.

When I looked up, Chloe smiled at me with soft eyes. “Why don’t I show Mrs. Adams around while you are away with your appointment?”

My brows furrowed. “What appointment?”

Mom looked at me over Chloe’s shoulder with a confused frown. “Appointment?”

Chloe squeezed my arm and turned to her. “Just monthly sessions with her psychiatrist.”

Psychiatrist?

Oh! Psychiatrist.

I pressed my lips together as Mom’s eyes turned to me.

Don’t ask me anything Mom. I don’t think I can lie to you.

“Is that today?” she asked me.

Well, shit. “Uh–”

“It is.” Chloe’s voice sliced into the air as she jumped up from the couch and clasped my hands to straighten me too.

“Chloe, wait. Mom…” I looked over my shoulder.

Mom gave me two thumbs-up. “I’ll be fine. Don’t miss your appointment.”

Chloe dragged me out of the room before I could even bid proper farewell to my mother, and ushered me toward the front door. “Go now and come back together, or I’m not letting either of you in.” When I was outside the door, she clasped my shoulder and turned me around to face her. All the playfulness had drained from her face and a concerned look drew her brows together, making my pulse thump in my ear.

“I hope you know what you mean to him, Maeve. These past few days, he was so lost. It was like when you left, you took a part of him with you. A very important part. I hate to justify his actions but I think you'd agree if I say he'd gone back to look for you in the park that night, then spent the rest of the night outside your house."

My heart flipped in my chest. "He did?" I thought he'd abandoned me for good.

"And today, while he was leaving, you should have seen his face.” She shook her head. “He is mad in love with you, Maeve.”

My spine stiffened and invisible birds flew out through my ears. Ian…was in love with me? Like I was in love with him? Or more?

“Chloe, what are you–”

She held up a finger to silence me. “Don’t give me the “Oh it’s not what you think” bullshit. Have you never really stared into his eyes? That alone, should have answered any doubts you had.”

His eyes...

Every time I stared into his eyes all I saw was a mirror of my own feelings. His adoration and sincerity of every word he spoke to me. Love was nothing I ever saw directly into someone’s eyes before. So, I had no idea what it looked like.

“Maeve.” Chloe grabbed my hands in a firm hold and looked into my eyes. “Don’t overthink it. Go with your heart. Sometimes our brain is a bitch. Leads us astray.”

“How will I know?” I whispered, uncertainty getting the best of me. “How will I know that he loves me?”

“You’ll know once you start looking for it in him.”

I raised my eyes to hers. “I…” Slowly, her words started sinking in.