The catalyst- an update

She hugged me tight at the airport, crying into my shoulder. I’d only seen her cry once before, the day her father died. Oh mum. I wanted to tell her everything, force her to save me. Stop me leaving. Put her in charge. But the relatives stood broad, a wall of pleats and perms, impossibly close, and anyway, I couldn’t find the words. I’d tried before, but nothing came, not even a stutter. I’d convinced myself it would be the end of everything to tell her. I couldn’t watch her face, her eyes. The crumple from inside, all my fault. So I cried too, my face turned away, posture brave.

Oceans between us, I switched on my computer. Spine sagging under the weight of the 33 hours of flights and airport lounges. Her email made my blood roar. My beautiful daughter, it began. She’d admitted it to herself too late. The damaged veins, the strange pharmacies. The clues I’d laid out, like cards, waiting for a question, the one she was too frightened to ask. She loves me, she wants me home, she loves me, she loves me. No blame, or judgement. The relief poured down my face as tears. Of course she loves me.