Hey, how come I only got ONE email out of FOUR reviews??? That's annoying.

Sorry, this one's a bit short, but it is vital to the progression towards the long-awaited end. Well, maybe you all haven't been awaiting it, but...hah...

Sonny

There are times when nervous butterflies are a positive feeling; they make you feel warm and giggly. There are other times, though, when the nervousness overpowers the tickling sensation, and you just feel like puking instead. But, I had made Chad take me this far against his will, and I wasn't backing down at the last minute.

I tried not to let him see how nervous I was, though this was entirely impossible not only due to how hard I was squeezing his hand, but also how I kept grimacing instead of smiling. Why was I this nervous? She was still my mom…if I still deserved to address her as such.

Trying to push this thought out of my mind, I inched my fist toward the white door with agonizing sluggishness, watching my knuckles extend closer to the hard surface. I heard a sound beside me and dropped my arm in fright, but when I turned to my left I noticed it was just Chad, sighing impatiently. About to remark about how selfish he was being, I instead followed his arm with my eyes, and realized what it would look like if I apologized to my mom while holding the hand of the culprit of my downfall.

I felt my finger muscles relax as his fingers slid unsurely between the spaces in mine. "Maybe it would be best if you—"

"—wait by the car," Chad finished, nodding understandingly. "Gotcha. Later, then, Sonny."

He leaned toward me and gave me a small peck on the lips, then winked and dashed away.

I became aware of how quickly my heart was palpitating, and drew a long breath as my fist resumed its position inches from the door to my former home, freezing for a second time. What was I prepared to say? "Mom, I'm sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you. I'm not expecting for you to take me back into your home; I just want you to know how genuinely sorry I am. I don't care if you believe me, but I'd like for you to give me a chance to tell you the truth for once."

That sounded about right. My chest swelled as I took another breath, held it for a minute, and let it out the same time I knocked on the door. After I did this, I heard nothing but the distant sound of rain still falling on the roof of the apartment. Within a few agonizing moments, the handle clicked and the door swung forward.

At first, my mom just stared blankly at me, and I stared blankly back. Then, avoiding her eyes, I launched into my explanation, trying not to make it sound rehearsed. "Mom, I'm sorry for everything! I'm not expecting for you to let me come back home, but I just want you to know—"

Before I could finish, however, she had enveloped me in a completely unexpected hug. I shut my eyes tight and hugged back as hard as I could. "I'm so sorry, Mom. But none of those pictures were what they looked like—"

"I know, sweetie…Tawni told me. It's okay, honey."

Warm hands smoothed up and down my back.

"You ready to come home?"

---

"Well…I'm still not happy that you want to continue dating Chad," Mom said as we sipped hot chocolate as if everything had only happened yesterday. "But then…I don't see why not. I mean…he drove you here, right? Even though he didn't want to? He gave you a place to stay—which I'm still not too thrilled about but at least you weren't out on the streets…"

"Mom?" I said, a question suddenly occurring to me. "Why did you send me away?"

She smiled and turned to look out the window, clutching her coffee mug in both hands. "Because you were making decisions for yourself without telling me about them. You seemed to think you were so grown up, and I wanted you to see if you really were." She turned to face me. "I guess…I guess you really are more mature than I gave you credit for."

A smile played on the corners of my lips. "So…does this mean I can still date Chad, and you'll be okay with it?"

She winced, but nodded. "I guess…he hasn't hurt you beyond repair…but, if he does anything to hurt you, I want you to be able to have someone to turn to. Now if you'll excuse me, I have laundry to fold."

I couldn't help but beam to myself as she left, and I took out my phone.

"Chad," I wrote, "don't need to stay there. Call you tomorrow," and sent the text with a fully content feeling I hadn't had in weeks.