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𝖭𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖤𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 ' ★
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The moment the phone call ended with Kian, Lorien didn't know what came over him as he rang his mother's phone. Seconds had gone by before the call connected. There was no sound for the next five seconds until she spoke. "Lorien?" Her voice came through the line, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

Lorien swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the phone. "Yeah, well... I wasn't expecting to call." His mother's soft chuckle floated through the receiver, but it felt out of place, almost mocking. "Well, here we are. What's on your mind?"

Lorien exhaled slowly, his free hand running through his hair as he tried to steady himself. "Well, let's start with the fact that you're pregnant." He didn't hesitate. He couldn't at that moment. Every emotion he felt came rushing to the surface. The main one is anger. Because why should she be happy? It was a horrible thing to say, but how could he not think it? How could she be happy after everything he went through in his childhood?

It was silent on the other end of the phone. But of course, it was. Of course, she had nothing to say. She hadn't expected him to know the news. She knew all too well who told him. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Lorien. I am a grown woman, am I not?" Her words made him roll his eyes. He scoffed. Of course, she would say that. She was a grown woman. She was his mother. And yet to him, it felt like she was a stranger. The woman he had known for 25 going on 26 years of his life as his mother was now a stranger to him.

"You're right. You are a grown woman. But don't you think it's good to inform your oldest child if you're having a new child?" He laughed bitterly waiting for her response. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. She had said nothing, and neither did he. He wanted to hear what she had to say. He was going to listen, sure, but it doesn't mean he's not going to give his opinion on everything she's about to say. Every little thing or bullshit that spills out from her mouth.

There was a difference between what his thoughts wanted versus what he wanted. His thoughts wanted him to be angry and yell at her. Scream everything that was running through his mind all at once at her. But what he truly wanted, what his heart wanted, was an apology. He wanted to hear the words, I'm sorry. Not the ones she's continuously told him over the years, but a genuine one. A genuine I'm sorry I couldn't be the mother that you wanted. I'm sorry I put my career over you and your brother. I'm sorry for everything, Lorien. But he knew he wouldn't get it. He's tried for years to get it, but then at the end of the day, he's never gotten one.

Finally, his mother spoke, her tone steady but cold. "I thought you would be happy for me and Nathaniel. I don't know what you want me to say, Lorien." Lorien nodded, irritated to the point where he just wanted to hang up on her. But he couldn't. He wants to get everything off his chest. But it would be difficult. The only thing she couldn't do was listen. She never did sad back then, and she wouldn't now. "Happy? What would you think that? Why would you even assume that? Sure, some part of me is happy for you and Nathaniel. But to me, it seems like all of this is a way for you to cast everything from the past to the side. Toss your neglectfulness to the side. Everything that you have said to me growing up is being tossed to the side."

He paused, a lump forming in his throat as anger and frustration swirled within him, making it hard to speak. "If I'm telling the truth, then I'm not happy. I haven't been happy in years. You've never allowed me to be happy. So why should I be happy now? You're introducing someone new into this fucked-up family. Do you think it's fair to them? Do you think it's fair to me and Kian?! You'll have your perfect family now. You'll be happy, Nathaniel will be happy, and this baby will be happy. Well, that's if you don't fuck it up. Fuck it up like how you did me and Kian's childhood. Sorry that I was born. Sorry, you had me so young, and I didn't fit into your perfect world. I should be the only one feeling like that. Not my younger brother. For some reason, he still tries to make everything work out between you two, and I'm proud of him for it. Show him love and be the parent he needs you to be, unlike you were earlier in his childhood."

They didn't say anything. Loren couldn't bring himself to say anything as the dam finally broke. He hated crying. He was stronger than that, wasn't he? At that moment he felt like his younger self again. The day he had cried after she didn't show up to one of his ballet performances. That was the first time he told himself not to cry because she would just continue to not show up.

He remembered his dad buying ice cream for him, so he just put on a big smile, but it never truly worked as he sat in the backseat of the car with the ice cream melting in his hand as he just cried. He was a crybaby after all, but he hadn't cried in years, ok, ok, maybe weeks. Since Thanksgiving night. But any time he did cry. It was always because of her. Why did he let her get to him this way?

"I've suffered enough, Mom. Just don't let him suffer as much as I did. I'm sorry I couldn't be the perfect child that you wanted. I'm sorry that you had to give up your big dream of taking off to raise me. I'm sorry for everything." He spoke as he looked down at the floor, wiping his tears away.

"Lorien." His mom spoke, but he stopped her. "Was it wrong for me as a child to have wanted my mom to be there? Ask her to watch me do the things she signed me up for. Watch me do ballet, practice opera, and do everything that she wanted me to. Be a good child for her, and yet I didn't get anything from it? Huh, Mom"  Lorien asked as it was silent on his mom's end.

Lorien's voice trembled as he continued, the weight of years pressing down on his words. "I tried to be what you wanted, you know? I tried so hard. Ballet, opera, all of it. I just wanted you to see me, to be proud of me. But it was like no matter what I did, it was never enough."

His mother's silence was deafening, but he pushed forward, letting the words spill out before they choked him. "I stopped asking for you to come after a while. Stopped hoping you'd show up. Dad was there every time. But it wasn't the same. I wanted you there, Mom. I wanted my mom."

A sharp breath on the other end of the line, almost as if she was about to speak, but Lorien didn't give her the chance. "And now, you're having another kid. Starting over, like Kian and I, was just... mistakes. Like we were part of a life you didn't want."

"I didn't—" she started, but Lorien cut her off again.

"Don't. Don't tell me you didn't mean it like that, because it sure felt like it. Maybe you didn't realize it, but it's how it felt growing up. And it's why I'm not jumping for joy about you having another baby."

There was a long pause. When his mother spoke again, her voice was softer, hesitant. "Lorien, I... I know I wasn't the best mother. I know I failed you in ways that I can't take back. But I'm trying to be better now. I want to be better."

Lorien's chest tightened, anger and sorrow battling within him. "For this child? I just hope that this new baby has a better life than I ever did with you as my mother. Just try not to screw up this time. Have a good life, Mom." He spoke, ending the call. He just sat staring at his phone. He didn't want to care anymore. But why was it so hard for him not to? He sighs as his shoulders shake and his tears fall harder.

Lorien stood there in the middle of his room, the phone now lying abandoned on the floor beside him. His mind was numb, his heart heavy with the words he'd just spoken, but deep down, he knew they didn't bring any relief. They never did. No matter how hard he tried, it was like shouting into an empty void. He wanted an apology. He needed one. But he knew it would never come.

He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest. He could still hear his mother's cold, dismissive tone in his ears. She hadn't even heard him. Not really. Not in any way that mattered. The thought hit him like a cold wave—he was done. Done trying to prove to her that he deserved her love, done holding onto the hope that she would change, done fighting for something that would never be.

He reached for his phone again, scrolling through his contacts before stopping at Kian's name. His thumb hovered over the screen, but he couldn't bring himself to send the message. What could he say? He didn't want sympathy. He didn't want someone telling him it would be okay. He just wanted someone to understand. He had Kian, sure, but it wasn't the same. Kian had always tried to see the best in their mother and always tried to make things work. But Lorien? He had tried and tried, and the only thing he had received in return was silence, indifference, and years of disappointment.

He let the phone fall from his hand, letting it rest beside him. He didn't care anymore. He didn't even want to try.

All he could think about was how different things would be now. His mother would have her perfect family. Nathaniel would have a child who wasn't damaged, who didn't know what it felt like to grow up with a mother who was absent, distant, and indifferent. Maybe that was the difference—the new baby would never know what it was like to desperately try to reach for a mother who was always just out of reach.

Lorien's throat tightened as a lump formed, but he refused to cry again. He'd cried enough. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. No more. If she wanted to be a good mother to this new child, so be it. But that would never fix the damage done to him and Kian. And no matter what, she would always be the mother who couldn't, or wouldn't, love him the way he needed.

He rubbed his face roughly, trying to shake the thoughts that kept circling in his mind. "I'm done," he whispered to himself. "I'm done."

The silence that followed was deafening. It felt final. It felt like he had truly let go. And maybe, for the first time, he was okay with that.

He looked around his room, eyes falling on the empty spaces—empty, not just of things, but of all the hope he used to hold for her. He wouldn't be her son anymore. It was a painful truth to accept, but it was also freeing. Maybe by cutting that final thread, he could start to heal. Maybe by accepting that this was the end of that chapter, he could finally close it and begin something new, something that wasn't defined by the absence of a mother's love.

For the first time in years, Lorien didn't feel the need to pick up the phone again. He didn't need to call her. He didn't need her to fix anything. The only thing he needed now was to stop holding onto the ghost of a relationship that had never really existed. It was time to take control of his own life. He would move forward.

But it still hurts. It would always hurt.

Lorien pulled his knees closer, resting his forehead against them as the quiet grief settled into him. But even in that pain, he knew this was the beginning of something he hadn't known he needed: peace.