Page 109 of Magical Moonbeam

Again, I was still trying to work on rising above it all when it came to Alex, but I was a work in progress.

I took a few steadying breaths to stop from laughing and finally called Celeste.

“Mom,” Celeste said the moment she picked up. “Dad looks like he lost a wrestling match with poison ivy and a swarm of ants.”

“Oh no,” I said, managing to sound just distressed enough. “You know how sensitive his skin is.”

“He’s never looked likethat.”

I coughed to hide the laugh. “Maybe he used the hotel’s soap. You know how finicky he can be.”

Celeste groaned. “He’s swearing it was the bedding. I told him he was just being dramatic again.”

“Likely,” I said with a smile. “He’s prone to flare-ups. Remember the cheese incident?”

She snorted. “Don’t remind me.”

There was a pause, just long enough to shift the air between us, and I seized it.

“Celeste,” I said gently. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hmm?”

“How’s everything going with… your boyfriend?” My voice sounded casual. Almost.

“Mom,” she drawled in that suspicious way children do when they sense incoming parental worry. “He’s great. Like, really great.”

I let her talk, her words coming quickly and bubbly. She told me how they studied together, how he made her laugh when she was stressed, how his family had this dreamy lake house they visited in the summers. How his mom drove in every other Sunday to cook dinner for them and whoever else from the dorm could come.

That part caught me.

It was like a knife dressed as a compliment.

“Oh,” I said, trying not to let it show. “That sounds… lovely.”

“It is.” Her voice softened. “They’re really close. And his mom’s amazing. She reminds me a little of you, actually.”

That nearly broke me.

I blinked quickly and stared out the window at the soft spring clouds blooming across the sky like cotton.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” I said, and meant it, even as something inside my chest quietly buckled.

“I am. College has been… good for me.”

“I wanted it to be,” I said quietly. “I wanted you to have space. To grow. And I thought if I stepped back a little, you’d… find your footing.”

“I did,” she said. “But you could’ve called more.”

Ouch.

I closed my eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “I know things have been hard for you. With everything.”

They had. Divorce. Magic. The reawakening of a cursed town.

“I just…” My throat closed for a second, but I pushed through. “I wanted to give you what I never had. The chance to become yourself without me hovering. But maybe I hovered too far away.”