“No, actually I’m currently looking toward a new career. One more fulfilling in which I can help children who have been abused; like I was.” I lift my chin proudly, meeting her eye ready to take on her response in a non-emotional way. I am at peace with how I am going to handle this.

Her eyes glaze over, and her eyebrow rises as she sighs, acting as though ‘little girl Emma’ is at it again, being over-dramatic, making herself out to be the poor defenseless, innocent child.

She is no mother of mine. I can see it now. I’ll never call her my mom again; she’s never been deserving of the title. In the short time Sylvana has known me she’s been more of a mom to me than Jocelyn ever was.

She’s pondering over how to respond, no doubt bringing memories of our last meeting fresh to her mind, afraid that raging and violent Emma may strop out again. That tiny trigger of annoyance builds higher at her silent pause.

Hold your temper, Emma, she’s not worth this. I swallow it down; just say the words and get it over and done with.

“Oh,” she finally says, sounding disinterested, no reaction to what I said as though she’s already internally decided to dismiss it.

I used to stupidly think my achievements would make her proud, that if I did something worthwhile with my life somehow, she’d love me. I ran to New York to be free of her, but I spent years allowing her in, still trying to please her from afar. Excelling in my work and trying to show her I was worthy. I did expect some sort of reaction about my chosen path or why, but I’m wrong. So very wrong. It’s not me who has to prove my worth anymore, it’s her, and honestly … She’s not worthy of my love and affection or my time.

“We’re having a baby.” I state flatly, not expecting the same type of response that Jake and I received from Sylvana. “You’re going to be a grandmother.” I add rather pointedly, to make a statement; to get everything out that I want her to know. I’ve lost all will for being here since this is going exactly how I should’ve known it would. She is too emotionally exhausting, and I don’t need to stay and take it anymore.

A wave of love sweeps over me when I say it out loud, noticing the way my smile comes out despite my irritation at her. It spreads across my face without any help from me; tadpole bringing me a sense of serenity from within. My hand instantly moves to cover my stomach gently, feeling its presence here with me gives me so much more strength. I focus on this tiny joy of my life and gain strength I need to finish this, letting it flood through me.

“I see.” She glances at me and then back at her desk and my smile fades.

felt the love for me

she’s

to say to me?” I ask dejectedly, suddenly tired, the anger that was bubbling seems to have given up on me and I find myself sighing instead. I can’t do this

times have I built myself up for something, anything from her and always come face-to-face

ever thought you wanted. You’ve never been very maternal or shown any interest in children. It’s no picnic being a mother, Emma, I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.” Her tone, one of seriousness, edged with ice. I blink at her in dumbfounded silence, my heart aching, “Is

I see it, not a single drop of pain over the fact that she never wanted motherhood or the clinging arms of a child. All those years of keeping me at arms-length, no affection, no warmth, and no protection, all

motherhood, but I made the most of it.” There’s no apology in her tone at all, no trying to soothe my feelings or

a little sadness, all the fight and will to somehow make her see the way she’s scarred my life is gone. I have nothing, no inner need to do this and no fight left to

up, looking at her fully, willing eye

is so bad, like mine, you’ll never be able to tell me or maybe you don’t have the capability to be

ripping in two, a pain that is bearable and will fade in time. She watches me with her large wide eyes and says nothing, no emotion, no protest; just looks at me … emptily. The same way

do love me, in your own way, but it’s not enough. I want my child to know love the way it’s supposed to be, and I could never inflict your sort of indifference, and inability to nurture, on my baby.” I move my chair back gathering my composure. “I’m walking away Jocelyn. I’m saying goodbye to the pain that you’ve always inflicted on my heart and the way you always made me feel like everything bad that happened in my life was my fault. Jake showed me how wrong that was.” I give her a moment to do

and I can accept that. Because I do know how to love, and nurture and protect, and I’m never going to let myself be ashamed of knowing how. I am worthy of having a heart and giving a piece of

to show it. No emotion, no tears, and no attempt to try to change my mind. Her

even before I was old enough to understand what she was taking from me. I gave my childhood away to please a woman who gave me nothing in

I’m going to and that’s okay too. I’ll grieve for a mother I never had; and I’ll make a space in my heart for a mother already working her way around it, accepting the woman I am without any expectations. Mamma Carrero will give me what I’ve always yearned for and I’ll give her a

Everything that happened, everything I endured, none of it was my fault. I know it, without a shadow of a doubt, but I don’t need you to

wall, a flicker of something as she watches me, but it’s only a small drop of raw emotion in an ocean full of false affection. It’s the only reaction I’ll ever see. But it’s not enough and it’s far

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