FAYE
Helen’s hand lingered on mine for a moment before she sighed, the kind of sigh that carried the weight of something more than words.
“Alexander hasn’t taken any of my calls since he left my house yesterday,” she said quietly. “So I thought I should come and face him directly, before it gets out of hand. He’s always been like this. Too sensitive. Even as a child.”
I shifted in my seat, a little awkward. Her tone wasn’t harsh...it was tender, almost regretful...but I still felt caught in a place that wasn’t entirely mine. This was between her and Alexander, mother and son. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but silence lingered, so I forced myself to answer.
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” I said softly. “It’s just disappointment. He could never hold a real grudge against you.”
