Fín {Third Book to Secret}

125

tysm for 300k reads :))

i really feel like some of this book should be in 'my everything' because this almost has the same amount of reads of Secret hahaha rip

125

May POV

I wonder why I'm actually here.

I seriously wonder why.

What's the good of what I'm doing?

Anne's voice rings in my head, reminding me I'm doing this for her.

I knock on the familiar door and wait. Maybe she won't answer. I hope she doesn't. It would be my excuse to say I tried.

The light brown wooden door is soon opened. The women's face is how I remember it. The only difference is the fact her hair is lighter and there are a few more wrinkles on her face from age.

"May?" My Mother's voice questions.

"Hello." I murmur.

"Y-Your uh Father is at work, if you're looking for him." She says. Her voice is soft and the kind. Her voice has never been kind to me.

"I was actually looking for you." I say dreadfully. I'm not really looking forward to this up coming conversation, but I'm not doing it for me. Mostly for the fact I promised Harry's Mom, and it's for my kids sake.

"Really?" Her eyes sadden almost. I nod. "Uh, come in." I do.

I step into my old house. I haven't been here in years.

I haven't been here since she told me to abort April. I get sick thinking about that.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks." I smile politely.

"Would you like to talk in the kitchen?" I nod. She leads the way.

As we walk through the house to get to the kitchen, my eyes stare at the many photos on the wall. There are a lot of photos of their grand children.

A few of Bell catch my eye. I smile softly.

I see some of my kids which makes my heart soften. My Dad probably put those up, which was nice of him.

I sit down across from my Mother at the island that hasn't changed. Overall the whole house is what it was like before. Nothing has changed that's I've noticed. The carpet is the same, as well as the color of the walls.

"How have you been?" My Mom asks timidly.

"Good, you?"

"I've been okay." She replies softly. My eyes wander off to the sobriety coins on the table top. My eyebrows furrow at them. They're in different piles for different dates.

"Those are mine." She says. My eyes look back to my Mother. "I've had a problem with alcohol for a while, but I've been sober for," She pauses. "11 years."

I knew she liked to drink on her days off. It was mostly at night with her friends. She'd come home shit faced.

Then her being drunk led to me being hit most of the time...

"Congrats." I say.

"Thank you." She smiles softly. "You don't have a stutter anymore." She brings up.

"Yeah, I got help for it." I say honestly.

"Your Father told me your son has it, right?" I nod.

"Yeah, but he's getting speech therapy for it." I say. "He doesn't like it, and I know what it's like, so we're getting him help for it." I explain briefly.