IVA
I just stood there, frozen where I was, my heart racing so violently it felt like it might burst through my ribs. He was asking me to let him go; that’s what he believed was best. And maybe he wasn’t wrong.
Things would be easier for Lev and me if Nik left. The tension between them had spiraled into something poisonous, making every room feel too small. And perhaps being home would stop feeling like walking barefoot across broken glass. Perhaps I could even pretend to enjoy being back, even if I couldn’t truly without my son in my arms.
But how was I supposed to let him go? How was I supposed to live with the knowledge that he felt so unwelcome--so in the way--that he thought leaving me behind was the best kindness he could give me?
What would I even say to his mother? She cared
