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I kept my expression blank. "Which time?" She flinched, but to her credit, she didn’t back down.

"I was wrong for what I said in Barbados," she admitted. "And for the way I treated you growing up." I stared at her, waiting for more. "I don’t resent you, Tootie. I never did. I just—" She stopped, her hands gripping the counter as she sighed heavily. "I was selfish. And I blamed you for things that were never your fault. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now. And I hate that it took losing you to realize how much I love you."

A lump formed in my throat, but I forced it down. "You could’ve told me that two years ago."

"I know." She nodded, looking me dead in the eye. "And I hate that I didn’t."

I swallowed hard, my arms tightening around myself.

"Do you really mean that?" I asked softly.

Sienna didn’t hesitate. "With everything in me, baby. I love you. And I’m so, so sorry."

The lump in my throat grew bigger, and despite all my anger, all my pain, something shifted in me at that moment. Because for the first time in my life… My mother wasn’t making excuses. She was just owning it. And I didn’t know what to do with that.

"I don’t know if I can just… forget everything," I whispered.

"I don’t expect you to," she said. "I just want to move forward. If you’ll let me."

I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes for a second before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah," I said, looking at her. "We can move forward. But I need time."

Sienna nodded immediately, tears glistening in her eyes. "Take all the time you need."

We stood there in silence, the weight of years of tension finally beginning to lift.

“Can I hug you?” I looked at her before nodding and she immediately walked into my space, wrapping her arms around me. “I love you so much my beautiful girl. I promise to make this right.”

It wasn’t perfect. But it was a start.

After a moment, Sienna cleared her throat, removing herself from our embrace, wiping at her eyes before taking a sip of her wine.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something else too," she said.

"What is it?"

Her lips curled into a small smirk. "An opportunity." I raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever heard of a little show calledBirds of a Feather?"

I laughed dryly, shaking my head. "Mama, don’t play with me. You know damn well I know what show you’re on."

She grinned, nodding. "Well, they’re doing a seven-episode arc next season where my character’s turns me into my younger self."

I frowned. "Okay…?"

"And since you look exactly like me," she said slowly, "the producers want you to play the role."

I blinked. Then blinked again. "Me?"

"You."

I stared at her, completely stunned. I wasn’t an actress. Hell, the only acting class I had ever taken was that damn Drama 101 class at Tisch that one year.

"Mama, I’m not an actress."

"We’ll get you a coach," she said smoothly. "You’ll be perfect."