She had spent years suppressing her true self—first for her adoptive parents, then for Timothy. For as long as she could remember, she’d kept her real feelings locked away.
None of it had made her happy.
In the past, at least Timothy’s kindness and care had soothed the ache inside her, making all the sacrifices feel worthwhile. He’d mattered to her, and she’d worked so hard to become the woman everyone else wanted her to be. But now, Timothy didn’t want her anymore.
So what was the point of all that effort? Why keep forcing herself to fit into a mold for people who didn’t love her? If he no longer loved her, then she had every right to reclaim herself. She was done making herself miserable for the sake of others. If she had to suffer, then she wasn’t about to make things easy for anyone else, either.
Henry’s illness was just the beginning.
When Jessica and Vince returned home, she picked up the sketchbook lying on the coffee table. Mrs. Zimmerman was still waiting for her in the living room, worry etched across her face.
“Jessy, is Henry all right?”
“It’s aplastic anemia. There’s no immediate danger—if we can find a matching donor for a bone marrow transplant, he’ll recover after surgery.”
Mrs. Zimmerman let out a relieved sigh.
Jessica didn’t want to talk about Henry. He’d broken her heart one too many times. Yet, she was still his mother. No matter how much pain he’d caused, she could never stand by if something happened to him.
Jessica’s pain was something Mrs. Zimmerman understood all too well.
Vince knew Jessica wouldn’t confide everything in her mother—she was too worried about causing more distress. So instead, she would talk to him, and he wanted to ease her burden in whatever way he could.
“It’s getting late, Jessy. Why don’t I walk you to your room so you can rest?”
Jessica nodded, and together they made their way upstairs, settling onto the sofa in her room.
Vince reached over, his voice gentle. “Jessy, don’t be upset. Just because you still care about your child, even after everything, doesn’t make you weak. You’re a mother—worrying about your child is only natural. That’s what makes mothers so remarkable.”
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