3 | hadley

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"Have you talked to her?"

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"Have you talked to her?"

"Not really."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to?"

"I–Mom!" I glance up from my breakfast to shoot my mother a frustrated glance, wondering where the sudden interrogation came from.

My mother stares back at me sheepishly, cheeks tinged a light shade of pink as she shrugs innocently. "I'm just asking some questions, honey."

I rise from my seat at the table to dispose of the contents on my plate, having abruptly lost my appetite.

"I don't know what to do, Mom. All of this is just . . . weird."

I don't know what aspect of my life I'm referring to when I say the word weird. Maybe everything, as it seems my entire world has flipped on its axis these past few months. Sloane moving back to town is weird. Having her show up at my house with my girlfriend over at the same time was weird. My mother asking me questions about the very girl she banned me from seeing then sent me to conversion therapy for dating is weird.

"Well, I think you should at least talk to her," Mom adds to the conversation, reminding me I'm still standing on earth and not floating off in my thoughts somewhere.

I can't resist snorting. "Really, Mom?"

My mother shoots me a withering glare. "I'm trying, Hadley."

I bite my tongue, shame filling my insides. "I know you are."

It's no secret that my mom wasn't necessarily fond of my sexuality before I met Devon. Yet she has put an effort into moving past her initial distaste, and I'm proud of the relationship the two of us have managed to form. We're not as close as we once were, but slowly and with time we're establishing a healthy bond. I enjoy my mother trying for me–even accepting my girlfriend with welcoming arms into our household and genuinely wanting to get to know Devon as a person; inviting her over constantly and making sure she feels comfortable around my family.

It's nice to know she cares.

"What's the point in talking to her, though?" I question. "I mean, we're over. I'm dating Devon now. Why pick at a healed scab, right?"

Mom shrugs once again. "You don't have to start anything again. But you can't hold a grudge against her. I can see why she thought it would be okay to show up here–I know I ruined things between you two." Mom bristles. "But it's not like she knew you were seeing someone else. It might help if you just cleared the air with her. Got some closure, then left that wound closed to heal. Don't you think?"

I consider my mom's advice thoughtfully. "I don't know, Mom. I think maybe interacting with her might just reopen a wound I've already stitched up. Hence the healed scab saying."

"It's up to you," Mom assures me as she rests a hand on my shoulder in passing. "Although, it's going to be sort of hard to avoid her. She does live across the street."

———
a/n: i think this is definitely the longest and hardest story i've ever written for some reason ? so glad to finally be continuing Hidden Within, but so worried to let y'all down 😭 I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️

———a/n: i think this is definitely the longest and hardest story i've ever written for some reason ? so glad to finally be continuing Hidden Within, but so worried to let y'all down 😭 I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR READING ❤️❤️❤️

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