Page 61 of What He Never Knew

“I feel embarrassed,” I said first. “And ashamed. I feel… damaged. And hardened. And just… sad. So,sosad,Manman.”

“That breaks your mother’s heart,” she whispered, her voice breaking like she, too, was crying.

I squeezed my eyes closed, shaking my head against another flood of tears. I hated that I was hurting her, hurting my aunt and uncle, hurtingeveryonearound me because I couldn’t face the thing that had hurtme.

“Can I ask you something?” Mom said after a moment. When I didn’t answer, she continued. “What you’re feeling now, the embarrassment and hurt… does it have anything to do with what happened at Bramlock?”

My throat tightened. “Yes,” I whispered.

Mom was quiet a moment, and I considered switching to video chat so I could see her, see what she was thinking through her big, soft brown eyes.

“And this thing that happened… is it what has been affecting your playing?”

My face twisted with the threat of another sob. “It’s been affectingeverything.”

I bent in on myself again, curling my arms around my middle in a big hug. It was true, that what Wolfgang had done to me had seeped into every facet of my life. I even wondered if he was the reason I felt what I felt for Reese. Maybe it wasn’t him at all, maybe it was a twisted version of Stockholm syndrome, gearing me toward an older man again, toward my piano teacher. Maybe I wanted love from him because I’d had nothing but hate from Wolfgang.

But none of that felt right.

Not when I thought it, not when I poured it out on the mapping table of my brain, staring at the contents and trying to make them all fit together. I knew without question there was something more there with Reese, something past the fact that he was forbidden, that he was off limits to me as my teacher, as a man older than me.

I wanted him, and yet I’d run from him.

Nothing made sense.

“Listen to me, Sarah,” my mother said, pulling me back to her just as I’d begun to spiral again. “Some things — no matter how close we are — some things will be hard to talk to your mom about. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything other than there are just some things we go through as young adults that parents won’t understand.” She paused for a long moment. “I think you should call Reneé.”

“I can’t,” I squeaked.

“I know, I know you feel like you can’t. You think she’s mad at you for leaving the way you did. And maybe she is, but I can guarantee you, she misses you. She wants to hear from you. And I really think you need to hear from her, too.”

I sighed, shaking my head like it wasn’t possible, but my heart swelled a bit at the thought. Maybe I could call her, apologize, let her in on what happened.

My stomach twisted.

“Or,” Mom said after a while. “Maybe, you could open up to Mr. Walker.”

I stopped breathing at that.

“Hear me out,” she said, as if she could see my freakout through the airwaves. “I know he’s your teacher, and he’s a man, and he’s older. But, I also know he’s earned a lot of your trust over the past couple of months. You’ve worked with him so much, and he’s proved to you that he cares about your wellbeing and your music. Maybe, if you open up to him about what happened at Bramlock, it would help you tackle the vulnerability aspect in your playing. I know you said that’s something he’s been asking of you.”

I blinked, processing her words as I propped myself up more in the pillows.

“Do you think he would listen, if you told him what happened?”

“Without a doubt,” I said softly. “I just don’t know if I could tell him.Manman, I’m not sure I canevertellanyone.”

“I know,” she said on a sigh. “I know. And I wish I could crawl into that head of yours. I wish I could comfort you without you telling me a thing. I just… I think we might be past that,mwen chouchou. I think you might be at a very critical point in your journey of healing, where no matter how much it hurts, you have to talk to someone about what happened in order to keep moving forward.”

I brought my hand to my mouth, closing my eyes at the touch as her words settled in. The thought of opening that mouth my fingers touched, of letting the words that held my truth tumble out of them nearly paralyzed me. I couldn’t imagine being able to get through the whole thing, and I definitely couldn’t fathom feeling better once the words were out.

Still, I felt it in my heart when my mother spoke those words that they were true. It was in the way that bruised, broken thing kicked to life at the prospect, at the thought of someone else knowing, someone else being able to understand.

At that someone being Reese.

“You don’t need to answer me or make a decision today,” Mom said. “Just… think about it. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.” Then, a long, sigh of a breath left my chest. “I miss you so much it hurts sometimes.”