One month later

A knock on my door startles me, and I put my pen down on my textbook. “Hey?”

Laurence smiles at me from the doorway. “Can I talk to you about something?” I nod, taking his hand and leading him to sofa in the living room.

“What is it?” He sucks in his lips, hesitating before speaking again. “My mum contacted me. She wants to meet up.”

On one hand, this is great. Laurence has always wanted to please his mother and be loved by her. However, she ignored and neglected him for the past 10 years. That’s unforgivable.

I force a smile, stoking his hand with my thumb. “Do you want to see her?”

Laurence sighs, running a hand through his curls. “I don’t know. Part of me has always wanted her to reach out to me, but at the same time, I get the feeling if I go, I’ll come away more hurt.”

I nod, fiddling with my hair. “What’s the best and worst things that could happen if you go?”

“The worst is she tells me she’s disappointed in how I turned out, and that she is ashamed of me.” He takes a shaky breath. “The best, is she apologises. I don’t know if I even want her in my life, though.”

“Did she says what she wants to talk to you about?”

“All she said is that she wants to meet up to talk about family.” Hm. Does she mean her and Laurence? Or…

“When’s the last time you saw her or had like a proper conversation?” Laurence looks at me, sadness clinging to his irises. “Last time I saw her was three years ago, I think. Last time we had a proper conversation…”

He bites his lip, sighing agin. “Like ten years ago. We exchanged words occasionally after that, but it was practically one word responses.”

I pull Laurence into a hug; his loneliness practically palpable. “Do you think she might have changed?”

Laurence rests his head in the crook of my neck. “It would crush me if she hasn’t.”

“Do you have to make your mind up now? Or can you take some time to think about it?”

“She didn’t say. I got the text this morning, I haven’t replied.” I nod slowly. “Do you think you’ll regret not going?”

“Definitely.” I think for a moment, before adding, “do you think you’ll regret more if you do go?” Laurence tenses. “I think I do want to see her. But I’m scared.”

I stroke his hair fondly. “It’s ok to be scared. She might end up causing you more pain, but you’ll have me this time.” He pulls back, catching my gaze.

“If I go, will you come with me?” I cup his cheek, stroking it with my thumb. “If you want me there.”

“I do. If you’re with me, I think…I think I might be ok.” He smiles, lacing our fingers together.

“Ok,” I kiss his palm, smiling. “So we’re going?”

He hesitates for a beat. “Yeah.”

—————

“This is the place?” I ask, squeezing Laurence’s hand gently as we walk into the coffee shop. “Pretty sure it is.”

I look around, wondering if his mum is already here. When Laurence freezes next to me, I take that as a yes. “Do you see her?”

He nods, biting his lip and gripping my hand. Turning to me, I can see the panic in his eyes rising. “I don’t want to go over. I’m scared.”

I stroke his hand, peering up at him. “What are you scared of, Babe?” Laurence exhales, his hands shaking ever so slightly. “Of her rejecting me. Of having to see her. Of having to even talk to her.”

“We don’t have to stay. If this is too much, we can go. You can tell her something came up and reschedule, or you don’t even have to reschedule. You’re in control of this situation, ok? We can do whatever you want.”

He forces a feeble smile which is more of a grimace. “I don’t know. I really don’t know what I even want anymore.”

I glance behind him to see a woman with olive skin and black curls falling to her shoulders begin to stand. Her eyes are a piercing blue as they lock with mine.

That must be her. I can see where Laurence gets his beauty from.

“Laurence, she’s coming over. If you want to leave, we need to do it now.” I squeeze his hand gently.

“I don’t know. What if she really just wants to talk and I’m pushing her away for no reason?” Poor guy, nothing is ever simple for him.

“You’re already regretting it and we haven’t even left. Do you want to try and say hi?” Before he can answer, a velvety voice seeps into my eardrums, the woman placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

“Laurence?”