Ginny Miller sat on the porch of their house in Wellsbury, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared out at the quiet street. The summer air was warm, and the sun had set long ago, leaving a faint glow of light from the streetlamps and the occasional flicker of fireflies in the distance. It had been another one of those days—tense, emotionally charged, and full of misunderstandings between her and Georgia. That wasn't unusual, though. Their relationship was always complicated. But lately, things had felt more intense, like they were constantly teetering on the edge of another argument.

Ginny sighed, her chest tightening as the words from their last fight echoed in her mind. They had been at each other's throats for what felt like hours, and now she didn't even remember what had started it. But the things they'd said... those still stung.

The lyrics of Taylor Swift's "Afterglow" played in her head: "Hey, it's all me, in my head... I'm the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant... I'm sorry that I hurt you." It was so fitting for the way Ginny felt right now. She hadn't meant to hurt Georgia, but their fights always escalated so quickly, like they were both carrying around too much baggage to keep things under control.

The door creaked open behind her, and Ginny didn't have to turn around to know it was Georgia. Her mom always had this way of showing up just when Ginny thought she was ready to be alone.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Georgia's voice was soft, cautious even, like she knew Ginny needed space but couldn't resist trying to fix things.

Ginny shrugged, not saying anything but moving slightly to make room. Georgia took the silent invitation, sitting down beside her on the porch steps. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the quiet settling over them like a heavy blanket. It wasn't a comfortable silence, but it wasn't hostile either. It was just... there.

Finally, Georgia broke the silence. "Look, Ginny, I know things got heated earlier."

Ginny let out a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah, heated's one way to put it."

Georgia sighed, running a hand through her long, blonde hair. "I don't know why we do this. Why we always end up fighting like we're on opposite sides."

Ginny turned to look at her, her eyebrows raised. "Maybe because it feels like we are."

Georgia flinched at the sharpness in Ginny's tone, but she didn't back down. "I don't want us to be. I'm trying, Ginny. I'm doing the best I can."

Ginny bit her lip, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over. "I know you are. But it feels like every time I turn around, you're keeping something from me. I don't even know who you really are half the time."

That hit Georgia hard. Ginny could see it in the way her mom's shoulders slumped slightly, like the weight of the words had physically hurt her. And maybe they had. Georgia had always been larger-than-life—bold, confident, and fiercely protective. But there was a part of her that was always hidden, even from Ginny. Especially from Ginny.

"I'm not trying to hide things from you," Georgia said quietly, her voice strained. "But there are things in my past—things I thought I was protecting you from."

Ginny shook her head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "But I'm not a kid anymore, Mom! I need to know the truth. You can't keep shutting me out whenever it gets hard."

Georgia was quiet for a moment, staring out at the street like she was trying to find the right words. Finally, she looked back at Ginny, her blue eyes filled with an emotion that Ginny couldn't quite read.

"I'm not good at this," Georgia admitted, her voice low. "I've spent so long trying to survive, trying to protect you and your brother, that sometimes I forget how to just... be honest. How to let you in."

Ginny's heart softened a little at the vulnerability in her mom's voice. She wasn't used to seeing Georgia like this—so raw, so unsure of herself. Usually, Georgia was the one with all the answers, the one who always knew what to do. But right now, she just seemed... lost.

Ginny sighed, resting her head on her knees. "I get that you're trying to protect me, but I don't need you to protect me from everything. I need you to trust me."

Georgia nodded slowly, her eyes downcast. "You're right. I haven't been fair to you. I've been trying to hold everything together for so long that I didn't realize I was pushing you away."

Ginny looked at her, feeling the weight of the past few months settle over them both. "We can't keep doing this, Mom. We can't keep hurting each other like this."

Georgia reached out, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "I know. And I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for everything."

Ginny swallowed hard, feeling the tears prick at her eyes. She wanted to stay angry, to hold on to the hurt and frustration that had been building between them for so long. But hearing Georgia apologize—really apologize—made it harder to keep the walls up.

"I'm sorry too," Ginny whispered, her voice breaking. "For the things I said earlier. I didn't mean them."

Georgia smiled softly, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know you didn't."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the tension between them finally starting to ease. The air felt lighter, like they were both taking a breath for the first time in what felt like forever.

"I'm not perfect, Ginny," Georgia said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've made mistakes. A lot of them. But everything I've ever done, I did for you and Austin. I hope you know that."

Ginny nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I do know that. But I need you to be real with me, not just the version of you that's trying to protect me."

Georgia let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing a little. "Okay. I'll try. But you have to promise me something too."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, curious. "What?"

"Promise me you won't shut me out," Georgia said, her eyes serious. "If we're going to do this, really do this, we have to be honest with each other. Both of us."

Ginny hesitated for a moment, thinking about all the times she had pulled away from Georgia—how she'd tried to put distance between them because she didn't know how to handle the truth of who her mother was. But maybe Georgia was right. Maybe they could only fix things if they stopped running from each other.

"Okay," Ginny said softly. "I promise."

Georgia smiled, her expression warm and genuine. "Good. Because I can't lose you, Ginny. You're my whole world."

Ginny's chest tightened at her mom's words. Despite everything, despite the lies and the secrets, she knew that Georgia loved her. And deep down, Ginny loved her too. She just didn't always know how to show it.

"I love you, Mom," Ginny whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Georgia's smile widened, and she pulled Ginny into a tight hug. "I love you too, baby. Always."

They stayed like that for a while, the tension that had been simmering between them finally fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, Ginny felt like maybe they were going to be okay. Things weren't perfect—they never would be—but they were trying. And that had to count for something.


Later that night, after the house had gone quiet and everyone else had gone to bed, Ginny found herself sitting in the living room with Georgia, a bowl of popcorn between them as they watched some mindless reality TV show. It wasn't anything special, but it felt like a step toward something better.

"You know," Georgia said with a playful smirk, "I'm really proud of you, Ginny."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, glancing at her mom. "For what?"

"For not running away this time," Georgia replied, her tone light but sincere. "You stayed, even when it got hard. That's not easy."

Ginny smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Yeah, well, I guess I learned that from you."

Georgia grinned, nudging her with her elbow. "Damn right you did."

They both laughed, the sound filling the room and easing the last bit of tension between them. For the first time in what felt like forever, Ginny wasn't angry, wasn't hurt. She was just... content.

As they continued watching their show, Ginny couldn't help but think about the lyrics from "Afterglow" that had been running through her mind earlier: "I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue... put you in jail for something you didn't do..."

Maybe she had been a little hard on Georgia. Maybe they both had. But they were here now, together, and that was what mattered.

"Mom," Ginny said suddenly, her voice soft.

Georgia looked over at her, her expression curious. "Yeah?"

Ginny smiled, her heart full. "Thanks. For everything."

Georgia's eyes softened, and she reached out to squeeze Ginny's hand. "Always, baby. Always."

And for the first time in a long time, Ginny believed her.