, a celebration of the friendship between our two families that spanned decades. This year, it was sup

one that usually made me feel pretty. Tonight, it felt like a costume. My reflection looked back at me, a stranger with haunted

nversation and the smell of my mom's cooking. Liam's mom, a perpetually anxio

me into a hug that felt a little too tight. "But

structed composu

rds tasting like ash in my mouth. "He said he's so

cated student. Sarah bought it, though a f

" she sighed, patting my arm. "We

avoiding my parents' concerned glances. I knew they could tell something

t restless. She kept checking her phone,

husband, Mark, her voice tight with worry. "That

He's probably just got it on silent, honey. He's at

ble and I could hear her pacing in the hallway, her voice

Please just call me back

able, my heart pounding. It wasn't a call. It was a notificat

face to Liam in the driver's seat, his focus on the road. Then she zoomed in on the car's center console. His phone was th

ff. Deliberately. So his mother's frantic calls

ing room, her face pale with distress. She was wringing her hands, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an ans

o his own mother, to casually inflict this kind of pain on

lative and two-faced. And now, this. The son who ignored his mother's desperate calls to be with another girl. He was a different person to everyone, a cha