She sighed, setting down her fork. “Liam, in the adult world, sometimes people say unkind things. It doesn’t matter.”
“Why do you let him talk to you like that?”
She just smiled and said, “Because sometimes being strong means staying silent. But don’t worry, honey. I’m fine.”
“One day,” I said, “I’ll make him regret treating you like this.”
She laughed and ruffled my hair. “Promise me you won’t do anything silly, okay?”
I promised. But I lied.
For the next two weeks, I watched Mom like a hawk. I noticed things I’d never paid attention to before, including how she’d check price tags on everything at the grocery store, how she’d mend the same pair of work heels instead of buying new ones, and how she’d come home with her eyes tired but her smile ready.
Every night when she walked through the door, I’d study her face for signs of another bad day.
“How was work?” became my daily interrogation.
“Fine, sweetie. Just the usual,” she’d reply, but sometimes her smile would falter for just a second.
