I Watched My Mother Kneel For His Family, Then I Ended His Chapter 11

I Watched My Mother Kneel For His Family, Then I Ended His Chapter 11

The first order of busitress after ELYN secured Velvet Holdings’ investment was moving into a new office

space.

Three thousand square feet, floor-to-ceiling windows, with a view overlooking the river.

On moving day, my mother insisted on coming to help.

She wore a sample piece I had newly designed-tea-colored silk blouse tailored to fit her slim frame,

featuring a hand-embroidered white orchid at the neckline.

I designed it specifically for her.

She wandered through the space, taking in every detail.

Then she came to a stop in front of the logo wall behind the reception desk.

Mounted on the wall was the ELYN logo-the letters formed from my own handwriting.

“ELYN…” she murmured, reaching out to touch the wall.

“Elva, this…”

“Yeah. Your name and

my name.

She went still for a moment.

Then she turned her face away, pretending to look at the view outside the window.

I could see her shoulders trembling.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around her from behind.

She’d put on a little weight.

Her complexion had improved too-no longer that sallow gray.

In the year since leaving the Guzmans, her entire demeanor had relaxed.

No more walking on eggshells around other people, no more living in fear of when the next slap would land.

Now, walked in the park every morning, and in the afternoons she brought snacks to the studio for

everyone.

Everyone adored her. At lunch, they’d all gather around, chatting and gossiping-and my mother laughed

the loudest of them all.

“Elva.”

“Yeah?”

Lused to be… so foolish.”

I tightened my embrace. It’s all in the past, Motn.”

“Back then, I always thought a woman’s life was ruined after a divorce. I always thought you needed a man to rely on.”

She wiped her eyes and turned around to look at me.

“Now I see that my daughter doesn’t need to lean on anyone.

I looked at her face.

That scar had faded completely, virtually invisible unless examined closely.

“Mom, it’s not just me on my own-it’s the two of us.”

She smiled and nodded firmly.

That evening, my mother, Celia, and I celebrated in the new office with barbecue.

Three women gathered around an electric grill, sharing a couple of cold beers.

Slightly tipsy, Celia raised her bottle with a deep sigh.

“Elva, you know what? Last year, when you called me in the middle of the night to draft that divorce agreement, I was terrified you’d back out.”

“Because you had endured it for five years. Five years without leaving-I was scared you’d shrink back in.”

“But you didn’t.” She clinked her bottle against mine. “You were badass.”

I took a sip of beer, the taste pleasantly crisp.

“When you’re backed into a corner like that, anyone would stand their ground.”

My mother sat beside us, holding a skewer of beef with a complex expression.

Then she said, “Next time anyone tries to hit me, I’ll hit them back myself—I won’t need you girls to step

in.”

Celia and I exchanged a glance.

And then all three of us burst into laughter.