“No,” she answered the moment her gaze eluded mine maybe out of embarrassment or something else. “He’s not gonna be coming.”
“How come? He would be crazy not to come with. I mean hell; it’s a freaking cruise we’re talking about.”
“I know, but like I said, he’s not coming.”
“Why?” I persisted, determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Fine,” she gave in, sighing while suddenly starting to sound upset with her arms crossed. “If you must know, I dumped him, that’s why. End of story.”
“Why?” I continued while feeling secretly comforted that no other man is going to stand between me and my mom.
“Don’t you listen?” she argued, starting to get annoyed. “I said I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“So why do you chose me to come with you after what we did that night…in your room?”
“Because…because…”
And there it is; Mom was speechless. The cat finally came out of the bag after pretending for three weeks straight that there wasn’t a big ass elephant in the room. She looked so shocked and clueless of what else to say that she turned her back on me and put her hands on the table to lean on, completely avoiding me.
She knows…she always knew this day would come. I can only imagine how she must be feeling right now. So the only way to be sure is to keep pushing through the wall of denial that she had built around her either to protect me, herself or maybe both. It’s pretty strange now that I think about it. She was so confident, so enthusiastic and so carefree that night when she gave me a blowjob, when I ate her pussy and then when we fucked. Now, she has become so distant and so closed up with me that it kind of hurt deep inside. How fucked up is that?
“Mom,” I called softly before moving to her side, trying in vain to glance at her face veiled by her long hair. “Mom, look at me.”
No answer, no reaction, nothing. So I insisted.
“Mom,”
Still nothing, as if I was talking to statue. So I impatiently overreacted, reached for her shoulders and forced my mother to turn towards me, face to face.
“I SAID LOOK AT ME!” I shouted, frankly louder than I wanted to.
And finally, now that she couldn’t avoid me any longer, her eyes reconnected with mine. And what I saw in them squeezed my heart tighter than I’ve ever felt before. She was crying with tears shedding from her reddened eyelids to run down her swelling face, devastated and afraid. Ever since I can remember, she was always my rock when I needed support, especially when I get emotional. And now, for the first time, that rock cracked. And it was showing with her so shaken and vulnerable that it was almost too hard for me to bear watching her as I was trying my best to stay strong.
“Just tell me why?” I then said empathetically while getting more sentimental. “Talk to me, please!”
“I…I’m just…” Mom said, trembling as she was struggling with her words until her frustration took over and erupted. “I’M JUST TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME…TO YOU…TO US!”
And so without holding back, my mother, the first and only love of my life collapsed right into my arms, clinging for dear life to my neck and shoulder, and sobbed next to my ear before she started to lament and cry her heart out. Convinced that this is exactly what she needed, I clung on to her to give as much comfort as possible for as long as it’s going to take. And for over five minutes straight, she cried some more on my shoulder while all I did was rock her slowly, and gently rub her back in between her shoulder-blades.
“I was so scared!” she uttered as soon as her sobs were slowly subsiding after choking her throat. “I don’t know what got into me. It’s as if I was…a completely different person…that night. I was so, so stupid thinking that we would go back as we were before. But now…now I know that things will never be the same…ever…because I…I am…”
“You’re what, Mom?” I asked as I felt my heart beating faster.
And as I asked the million dollar question, she hesitated as if apprehension was holding her tongue. But after a minute or so, she shortly started to calm down, sniffing her nose a little before she pulled back without letting go of me. My loving mother suddenly became even more beautiful when the words she wanted to express from the bottom of her heart came out of her lips with her quavering but still endearing voice.
“I’m afraid…I think…I believe that…I’m in love with you too.”
Thus I instantly forgot to breathe for a second. I almost couldn’t believe my ears or even my eyes. Did my mom just fully admitted (to me no less) that she loves me far more than just as a parent? My jaw dropped, leaving my mouth open as the confirmed truth was sinking in deep and proper.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” I then asked as hope was rekindled within me.
“I don’t know,” she responded, emotionally distressed as if she was about to burst into more tears. “I guess…after realizing what I did to you…I thought I was…a terrible person.”
“No, Mom!” I objected, not buying it for second. “You’re not a terrible person, you’re a terrific person. You’re MY favorite person…even when you can be pretty bossy sometimes.”
And upon hearing me say that, my mother’s expression therefore brightened up a notch before a soft giggle slipped out, making her lips stretch into a white, toothy smile at the comic relief that I delivered. My own eyes were dripping a little as I was smiling back in happiness. And not a moment too soon, my two palms cupped her warm cheeks to hold her face for my thumbs to wipe her tears.
“And I do love you,” I added without a trace of a doubt. “More than anything, no matter what.”
“My sweet boy!” she purred fondly before taking a hold of my face as well between her own hands, touching me with such tenderness. “Do you have any idea how precious you are to me?”
“I think I have an idea.”
And as I said so, my body went on auto-pilot as I stepped in to have her curvy figure against me and my lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss at first, but to my pleasant surprise, my mother took a better hold of my head and pulled me back in for another kiss that lingered to take my breath away. We were then fully embracing each other with her arms laid around my neck, and my own around her waist to have us both pinned together. Carried away in more ways than one with our eyes closed, my mouth was absorbed in gently sucking and releasing her full upper lip in turn while Mom was onto my lower lip, bobbing her head as passionately as I was.
And so, we continued just like that, no longer caring who we are and why this is happening. There was no more talking and no more crying. As far as I was concerned, I was living in the moment and expressing my true feelings for my mother with whom I can be home anywhere, because home is where the heart is, as they say.
Slowly, the passion that had spurred us both was diminishing the longer our lips were glued to one another. Then alas, we eventually parted while still hugging with our foreheads welded together. I felt as if I was more connected to her than I ever was. I couldn’t know for sure how long we were standing like this in the middle of the kitchen floor, but I didn’t really care because my mother seems to have finally regained enough of her composure for her sobs to stop and her shoulders to relax.
“Are you Okay?” I asked, not sure of what else to say at the moment.
“I think so,” she answered, recovering from her teary breakdown while still looking a little nervous when our faces separated at ten or twelve inches apart. “I just…can’t believe this. What has become of us?
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out since we…you know,” I replied, immensely relieved deep down to finally be able to really talk to my mom without fearing for rejection or worse. “I guess it’s…just how it is.”
And as I vaguely provided the only answer at my disposal, not another word was said as we began to solely stare at each other. It’s as if we were compelled by an irresistible force that was somehow binding us. It’s pretty amazing the things we can see when two individuals are gazing at one another without looking away, even for a moment.
My science teacher once said that prolonged eye contact has been thought to release some kind of body chemical responsible for feelings such as attraction. He also mentioned something about “oxytocin”, some sort of love chemical closely associated with long term bonding and commitment. It felt awkward at first, but after a little while, the awkwardness of it all naturally dissipated, replacing it with pure, unrestricted love and acceptance.
I always thought that my mother’s eyes were as black as coffee, but now that I can see them up close, they are in fact a mix between dark chocolate and brown cinnamon. They are so beautiful, just like everything about her. At her core, she is a caring, loving and devoted woman who treats everybody with kindness and a paragon of positivity and selfless integrity with the youthful spirit of a girl who just wants to have fun.
A minute must have passed, and yet she never once stopped looking at me. It’s as if she was soul gazing me without being too intrusive or overbearing. Is she trying to determine what step she should take or is she attempting to read my mind to find out what is going on in my head?
“You look so much like your father,” she finally said, tenderly referring to my heart-shaped face, my distinguished jaw line, my straight, sharp-looking nose, and especially to my sky blue eyes in which she was fondly losing herself. “Did you really meant what you said, of you…loving me?
“Of course I did,” I answered affectionately with utmost certainty just before remembering something that just popped out in my head. “Do you remember the time when I stole twenty bucks from your purse?”
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