The sun was dipping behind the mountains, turning the sky a bright orange. The shadows on the ground were growing long, and the air was cooling down.
Tristan and Mikayla stood at the front door of Tristan’s house. The young boy’s hands were clammy as he prepared himself for the talk with his mother.
“You got this,” Mikayla tried to reassure.
Tristan sighed and opened the door, stepping inside. The lights in the living room were on. Tristan gulped; there was no turning back now.
He walked inside, his feet carrying him to the living room. The sound of his shoes hitting against the hard tile floor made Tristan’s mother raise her head from her book and look at him.
“Hello dear,” she said. “You were gone for quite a while. Did you have fun?”
Tristan balled his sweaty fists and drew a deep breath in. “M-mom, we need to talk.” He started, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Tristan’s mother blinked, and she marked her place in her book, pulling out the chair beside her. “Alright honey,” she said. “About what?”
“A-about Dalibor.” Tristan replied. “I feel like…” Tristan’s voice trailed off as he pondered his next words. Mrs. Rehbein stayed silent, wanting to be there for her son. Tristan inhaled deeply. “I-I feel like you’re trying to replace dad.”
Tears brimmed Mrs. Rehbein’s eyes, and she wrapped her arms around Tristan.
“Honey… no one could ever replace your father.” She wept. “I miss him too, so, so much.” She pulled back and put her hands on his shoulders. “But I also love Dalibor. Not in the way I loved your father… it’s different.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Tristan cried. “How can it be different?”
The wrinkles on Mrs. Rehbein’s face became more defined as she wiped her eyes on her hand. “It’s not the same way I loved your father.” She sniffled, her eyes clouding. “But I do love him.”
Tristan sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I still don’t understand.”
Mrs. Rehbein gave a soft smile. “I guess I don’t either.” She chuckled, the laugh laced with sadness. “I haven’t understood a lot of things since your father passed.” More tears trickled down her face. “But I do know that you being happy is the most important thing to me.”
That moment, Tristan started to sob. He hugged his mother tightly, bawling into her shoulder. “How can I be happy when dad’s gone?!” Tristan wept. She hugged him back, rubbing his back. Tears streamed down her face as well.
“It’s what your father would want,” she replied, her voice catching in her throat. “He would want you to be happy. He loved you so, so much, Tristan.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Tristan blubbered. “I wanna be happy for you, mom. I just miss dad so much.”
“I do too,” Mrs. Rehbein said.
Tristan took a step back, releasing himself from the hug. His eyes were wet and puffy.
He wanted to be happy, he so badly wanted to feel the warmth in his heart again. He hadn’t felt it since his father’s passing.
He wanted his mother to be happy too, and while he didn’t agree with her actions, if it made her happy… then that’s what mattered.
“I’ll give them a chance.” Tristan stated. “I’ll do it for you, mom.”
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