Chapter 20: I'm being pulled in.
"Here, allow me." Before I could grab my napkin, Noona was already standing up. She leaned across the small table, her light floral perfume enveloping me.
With a cool, gentle thumb, she wiped away the remaining cream from my lip. The touch was startlingly intimate, her thumb soft and sure against my skin.
Then, without a second thought, almost as a reflexive, maternal habit from years of cleaning a messy child's face, she brought her thumb to her own mouth and licked the cream off.
My entire face erupted in a blaze of heat. The blush felt like it started at my toes and rocketed up to my hairline.
The casual, familiar gesture, combined with the server's earlier assumption and my own traitorous thoughts, created a confusing cocktail of embarrassment that assaulted me.
Noona seemed to realize the intimacy of the action a second too late. It seemed she'd momentarily forgotten that I wasn't some kid anymore. A faint pink tinged her own cheeks as she sat back down, her laughter now a bit more flustered.
She tried to act like nothing happened and sat back down before taking a quick sip of her water.
" I can't say this doesn't remind me of the good old days," I blurted out, seizing on the first neutral topic I could find to shatter the awkward, electric silence.
My voice sounded unnaturally loud. "You always used to do that when I'd get ice cream all over my face as a kid."
The diversion worked. Sarah's warm expression softened, melting from momentary fluster into a deep, genuine nostalgia.
But the nostalgia quickly turned, shading into something melancholic. "The good old days, huh…" she echoed, her gaze drifting to the window, seeing not the city street but some memory from a sun-drenched past.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, my worry returning. "Did I bring up some bad memories?"
"No, Julian," she said, turning her gaze back to me. Her smile was sad but still filled with fondness.
"It's not your fault. Not at all." She reached across the table again, but this time,She slowly took both of my hands in hers, her cool fingers interlacing with mine.
The contrast in temperature was always so stark. She held my hands firmly, her eyes staring into mine.
"No matter what you may have seen or heard today," she said, her voice low and earnest, "I don't want you to blame yourself for any of it. Ophelia's anger… our fighting… it wasn't caused by you showing up today. You were just unfortunate enough to come when it happened." She said before letting out a sigh.
She took a deep, shaky breath, her thumbs stroking the backs of my hands. "You see, Julian… after you left for the city, things… changed. Ophelia didn't take kindly to you being gone. You were her hero, her playmate, you were practically all she cared about."
"And I think, in her child's mind, she felt you chose this new life over her." She paused, her eyes glistening. "And then the company began to progress more than I expected but with it, I also got busier day by day."
" Always leaving her alone with others to take care of the business but I'm sure unlike you, she never truly took to those around her."
" I know it's selfish of me to say that I was simply trying to build something to secure her, our future... But to a teenage girl who'd just lost her favorite person, it must have felt like I was choosing work over her, too. Like she was being abandoned all over again."
A single tear escaped, tracing a quiet path down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. "Now she's all grown up. She's brilliant, Julian. So clever and strong-willed. But she's also so distant. We fight about everything, her clothes, her music, her curfew, her friends."
" We can go days in that apartment only speaking a few word's."
"And now, seeing you walk back in… someone from the 'good old days' she's maybe romanticized or maybe resents… I think she just feels betrayed all over again. And she doesn't know how to handle it except with anger."
Her voice broke on the last word. She looked down at our joined hands, her shoulders slumping under the weight of the confession.
My heart ached for her. The strong, capable, always-put-together Sarah Noona was showing me a crack in her armor, and the vulnerability was more powerful than any anger. I tightened my grip around her hands, squeezing gently but firmly.
"It's okay," I said, my own voice filled with bubbling emotions. I waited until she looked up, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. "It's all going to be okay. I know Ophelia has changed. The little girl with the butterfly shirts is gone. But that doesn't mean the love is gone. It's just… hidden deep inside, and no amount of black eyeliner or moodswings can ever change that."
I attempted a small smile. "Never forget, you are her mother. And I'm sure, deep down, she hasn't forgotten that either. Alright?"
I leaned forward slightly, holding her gaze. "Just give her some time. And some space. And now that I'm here, not as a replacement for anything, but just as me, maybe we can both try to find a new way to connect with her."
" There's no reason for you to beat yourself up like this. You were only trying to give her the best life you could. A safe, comfortable life. You succeeded at that part, at least." I gestured vaguely in the direction of the luxurious apartment. "The rest… i can help you figure out.
I finished, my lips arching into what I hoped was a warm, reassuring smile. It felt strange to be the one offering comfort to her, the rock of my childhood. But it also felt right.
Sarah's moistened eyes stared into mine for a long, quiet moment. I could see my words sinking in, chipping away at the wall of guilt and sadness she'd built around herself.