She hurt me
821 Words
~Scott POV~
The airport was crowded, loud, and alive. Everything was so but I wasn’t.
I parked and stepped out of the car, the sliding doors hissing open and closed as travelers rushed past me with suitcases and laughter, reunions and relief written on their faces.
I scanned the arrivals area, my eyes searching almost instinctively.
Then I saw her.
She stood near one of the pillars, a small suitcase beside her, her posture straight despite the exhaustion I could already see etched into her face.
Her hair was pulled back neatly, just the way she always wore it, and when her eyes met mine, they softened instantly.
“Scott.”
My name sounded different on her lips. Lighter and safer.
Before I could stop myself, I was already walking toward her. She opened her arms, and I stepped into them, breathing her in. familiar. For the first time that day, my chest loosened just a little.
“My son,” she whispered, holding me tighter than necessary. “You look thin.”
I let out a small, humorless breath. “You always say that.”
She pulled back, cupping my face with both hands, studying me the way only a mother could-seeing past the calm, past the control.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically.
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me for a second but chose not to argue. Not yet. I had a lot on my mind
We grabbed her suitcase and walked toward the car in comfortable silence. It had been years since she’d been here, years since she’d left after my father’s death, unable to survive in a city that reminded her too much of him.
As I drove, she looked out the window, her eyes taking everything in like she was revisiting a life she’d once abandoned.
“People here are as happy as they used to be.”
I nodded. “Some habits don’t change.”
Neither did grief. Neither did love.
When we finally reached my apartment, she looked around quietly as I unlocked the door. It was neat, minimalist, functional too empty for her liking.
“This place doesn’t feel lived in,” she commented gently.
“I’m not here much,” I said, setting her bag down.
She turned to face me, folding her arms. “Scott.”
Here it comes.
“You didn’t come all this way just to see my furniture,” I said.
Her lips curved faintly. “You’re still too sharp for your own good.”
She moved to the couch and sat, patting the seat beside her. I hesitated, then joined her.
“So,” she began carefully, “you said on the phone there were things happening in your life.”
I stayed quiet.
“And you avoided every question I asked after that,” she added.
I exhaled slowly.
She watched me for a moment, then smiled knowingly. “That usually means a woman.”
I stiffened before I could stop myself.
Her eyes lit up. “There is someone.”
“Mum-”
“You’re twenty six, Scott,” she interrupted softly. “I’ve waited long enough. If there is a woman in your life, I want to meet her.”
My jaw tightened.
Images flashed through my mind-Melon’s tear-filled eyes, her trembling voice, the words she’d thrown at me like a weapon.
Loser!
“Not yet,” I said quietly.
She frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s… complicated.”
She studied me again, more seriously this time. “Did you hurt her?”
The question landed harder than I expected.
“No,” I said quickly. Then, after a pause, “She hurt me.”
Understanding dawned slowly in her eyes. She reached out, placing her hand over mine. My mom has been a confidant and a best friend for all my life.
“My son,” she said gently, “love isn’t supposed to leave you this closed off.”
I swallowed. “She asked me to leave.”
Silence settled between us.
“I need time,” I continued. “Please. Just be patient with me.”
She sighed, leaning back. “You’ve always been patient with everyone else. Perhaps it’s time someone was patient with you.”
I looked away, my chest tightening.
If only Melon could be.
If only I could go back and undo those moments.
But for now, all I could do was survive the weight of today.
“I’ll meet her when you’re ready,” my mother said finally. “But Scott… don’t shut her out because you’re afraid.”
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was, I wasn’t afraid of loving Melon.I was afraid she’d never let me.
That scared me so much. What was I supposed to do with the love I have for her ?
- Writer
