Tyler
Mom.
Of course.
Because apparently the universe still wasn’t done humiliating me today.
Mom sat quietly on the couch in the living room, one leg crossed over the other, still in her work clothes.
Her laptop rested beside her, untouched, but her eyes stayed fixed on the mug of coffee in her hands, ignoring the fact that I’d just walked through the door later than normal.
At least that was what it was supposed to look like.
But I knew better.
She was waiting.
Sitting there, staring at the TV without actually watching it, expecting me to turn back around and do what I should’ve done days ago.
My hand suddenly stung beneath the bandage, reminding me why walking over to her felt like a terrible idea.
Sydney had spent time wrapping it properly. And if I took it off, there was n
