The next morning, I woke before my alarm.<\/p>\n
My cheek had nearly returned to its usual color, but the memory of Deacon's hand was still clear.<\/p>\n
I got out of bed and opened the curtains.<\/p>\n
The light was pale and soft, and the street below was already waking up.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I stood by the window without thinking about my son.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered his words from the night before.<\/p>\n
He had admitted that hitting me was wrong.<\/p>\n
I had wanted to hear those words.<\/p>\n
Part of me had felt relieved when he finally said them.<\/p>\n
But the relief had not lasted.<\/p>\n
He had said them as if he were giving me something I had asked for too many times.<\/p>\n
He had wanted me to accept the sentence and stop talking.<\/p>\n
I could not pretend that had repaired what happened.<\/p>\n
I went to the kitchen and made tea.<\/p>\n
The cardboard under the table leg had slipped again, so I pushed it back into place with my foot before sitting down.<\/p>\n
I took my phone from the counter.<\/p>\n
There was a message from Deacon.<\/p>\n
He had written that he hoped I was feeling better and that we could put the whole thing behind us.<\/p>\n
I read the message carefully.<\/p>\n
The first part sounded considerate.<\/p>\n
The second part sounded familiar.<\/p>\n
He wanted the incident to be finished because he was tired of discussing it.<\/p>\n
He had not asked what I needed.<\/p>\n
He had not asked whether I was still frightened of being around him.<\/p>\n
He had not asked what he could do to help me feel safe again.<\/p>\n
I put the phone beside my tea.<\/p>\n
I did not want to dismiss the possibility that he might be trying, however clumsily.<\/p>\n
But I also did not want to reward a small change in wording by pretending the larger problem had disappeared.<\/p>\n
I finished my tea before replying.<\/p>\n
I told him I appreciated him asking how I felt.<\/p>\n
I also told him that I needed more than a quick agreement that the slap had been wrong.<\/p>\n
I said I wanted us to have a relationship where I could speak honestly without being afraid of his reaction.<\/p>\n
Then I put the phone down.<\/p>\n
I had no idea how he would receive that message.<\/p>\n
I only knew it was true.<\/p>\n
I spent the rest of the morning doing the things I had planned.<\/p>\n
I checked the calendar.<\/p>\n
I organized a few bills.<\/p>\n
I wiped the kitchen counter and put the clean dishes away.<\/p>\n
The apartment was small, and there was never much room to spread things out.<\/p>\n
Still, I liked knowing where everything belonged.<\/p>\n
The little table had been with me for years.<\/p>\n
Its surface had scratches from school projects and marks from hot cups.<\/p>\n
I had once considered replacing it.<\/p>\n
Instead, I kept using it because it was still useful.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether I had treated my relationship with Deacon the same way.<\/p>\n
I had kept trying to repair something because it had once been good.<\/p>\n
I had remembered the early years, when he would come home from school and tell me about his day.<\/p>\n
I had remembered his small hand in mine when we crossed the street.<\/p>\n
I had remembered the way he used to bring me drawings he had made.<\/p>\n
Those memories were real.<\/p>\n
They did not make the slap less real.<\/p>\n
I could love the child he had been and still hold the man he had become responsible for his actions.<\/p>\n
That thought stayed with me as I folded the dish towel and hung it beside the sink.<\/p>\n
Around lunchtime, my phone rang.<\/p>\n
Deacon was calling.<\/p>\n
I answered.<\/p>\n
"Hi, Mom."<\/p>\n
"Hello, Deacon."<\/p>\n
He sounded calmer than he had during our earlier conversations.<\/p>\n
He asked how my breathing was.<\/p>\n
I told him it was manageable, although I was still taking it easy.<\/p>\n
He asked whether I had been to see anyone about it.<\/p>\n
I told him I was paying attention to my health and following the care I had already been given.<\/p>\n
He said he was glad.<\/p>\n
For a moment, the conversation felt almost ordinary.<\/p>\n
I could hear the familiar voice of my son without immediately bracing myself for another argument.<\/p>\n
Then he said he wanted us to move forward.<\/p>\n
"I want that, too," I told him.<\/p>\n
"Then let's agree not to keep bringing up what happened."<\/p>\n
I looked at the window.<\/p>\n
Outside, a car was waiting at the intersection.<\/p>\n
A pedestrian crossed in front of it.<\/p>\n
"Deacon, I can't promise that."<\/p>\n
He sighed.<\/p>\n
"Why not?"<\/p>\n
"Because I don't know what moving forward will look like yet."<\/p>\n
"We can't stay stuck in the past."<\/p>\n
"I agree. But moving forward doesn't mean pretending the past didn't happen."<\/p>\n
He became quiet.<\/p>\n
I waited for him to respond.<\/p>\n
"I already told you it was wrong," he said.<\/p>\n
"I heard you."<\/p>\n
"Then why isn't that enough?"<\/p>\n
"Because I need to know that you understand what it means for me to feel safe around you."<\/p>\n
He said I was making the situation bigger than it had to be.<\/p>\n
I felt the familiar pressure to explain myself until he was satisfied.<\/p>\n
Instead, I stayed with the question.<\/p>\n
"What do you think would help me feel safe, Deacon?"<\/p>\n
He did not answer.<\/p>\n
I could hear him shifting the phone.<\/p>\n
After a few seconds, he said he did not know.<\/p>\n
That was the first honest answer I had heard from him in several days.<\/p>\n
I did not rush to fill the silence.<\/p>\n
"I don't know either," I said. "But I know we cannot fix it by acting as though nothing happened."<\/p>\n
He told me he had to get back to something.<\/p>\n
I said goodbye.<\/p>\n
After the call, I sat down at the table.<\/p>\n
I was disappointed, but I was not surprised.<\/p>\n
I had spent years hoping that if I asked the right question, my son would suddenly understand everything I had been trying to tell him.<\/p>\n
I was beginning to accept that understanding was his responsibility.<\/p>\n
I could explain my feelings.<\/p>\n
I could describe the effect his actions had on me.<\/p>\n
I could tell him what I would and would not accept.<\/p>\n
I could not make him care about those things.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, I went through the small drawer where I kept my medical papers.<\/p>\n
I checked the dates on a few documents and put them in order.<\/p>\n
The work reminded me that my health needed attention regardless of what happened with Deacon.<\/p>\n
My lungs had been damaged long before the argument in Sloan's kitchen.<\/p>\n
I had already been warned to avoid smoke.<\/p>\n
I had every right to ask for that basic consideration.<\/p>\n
I did not need to defend the request again.<\/p>\n
When I finished organizing the papers, I put them in a folder and returned the folder to the drawer.<\/p>\n
Then I sat beside the window with a book.<\/p>\n
I read several pages before realizing I had not checked my phone for nearly an hour.<\/p>\n
The discovery pleased me.<\/p>\n
It meant I was learning to let my day belong to me again.<\/p>\n
Later, I received another message from Deacon.<\/p>\n
He wrote that he hoped we could have dinner together soon.<\/p>\n
He did not mention the slap.<\/p>\n
He did not mention our conversation.<\/p>\n
He simply asked whether I would come over sometime that week.<\/p>\n
I read the message twice.<\/p>\n
I missed sitting with my son.<\/p>\n
I missed hearing him talk about ordinary things.<\/p>\n
I missed the possibility of being together without every sentence becoming a test.<\/p>\n
But I was not ready to return to the house where he had struck me.<\/p>\n
I typed that I was not ready to visit yet.<\/p>\n
I told him I needed more time.<\/p>\n
He replied with a brief question asking how much time I needed.<\/p>\n
I could not give him a date.<\/p>\n
I did not know how long it would take to feel comfortable around him again.<\/p>\n
I told him I would contact him when I was ready to discuss a visit.<\/p>\n
Then I put the phone away.<\/p>\n
I felt guilty for a while.<\/p>\n
That guilt came from an old belief that a good mother should make herself available whenever her child wanted her.<\/p>\n
But Deacon was an adult.<\/p>\n
He could wait for a visit.<\/p>\n
He could sit with the discomfort of knowing that his actions had changed something between us.<\/p>\n
I had waited through plenty of discomfort to protect him.<\/p>\n
It was not unreasonable to ask him to do the same.<\/p>\n
Before bed, I checked the front door lock.<\/p>\n
I turned off the kitchen light and placed my phone on the nightstand.<\/p>\n
The room was quiet.<\/p>\n
I still hoped my son would learn to take responsibility without treating it as an attack on him.<\/p>\n
I still hoped we could find a better way to speak to each other.<\/p>\n
But I was no longer willing to make that hope depend on ignoring what he had done.<\/p>\n
I lay down and adjusted my pillow.<\/p>\n
Then I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
I did not know when Deacon and I would have dinner together again.<\/p>\n
For the first time, I understood that I did not have to decide that night.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I woke before my alarm. My cheek had nearly returned to its usual color, but the memory of Deacon's hand was still clear. I got out of … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":40813,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40830","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40830","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=40830"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40830\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":40850,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40830\/revisions\/40850"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/40813"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=40830"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=40830"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=40830"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}