It was a rainy Tuesday, the kind that forced the world to slow down. The sky hung low and grey, and the sound of water tapping against my dorm window was strangely soothing. I was curled up on the couch in our small apartment—now just Sophie and me since James had moved into off-campus housing near the hospital for his clinical rotations.
I had just finished editing my research paper when my phone buzzed.
MOM – Incoming call
I blinked at the name, surprised. It wasn't unusual for my parents to check in now, but they rarely called during the day. I picked up immediately.
"Hi, Mom?"
"Charlotte," she said softly. There was something different in her voice. "Are you free to talk?"
"Yeah. Everything okay?"
"Yes. Better than okay, actually. I just… I've been thinking about you a lot lately."
That made two of us.
We talked for nearly an hour. It started casually—updates, work, med school offers—but then, she took a long pause.
"I want to say I'm sorry," she said.
I sat upright. "For what?"
"For the years I wasn't there," she said. "When you were younger. I missed a lot, Charlotte. And lately, as I watch you rise into your own brilliance, I realize you didn't need me to be perfect—but you needed me to be present."
I didn't even realize I'd been holding my breath.
"I used to feel like I was shouting into a void," I admitted quietly. "No one noticed when I hurt. Not you. Not Dad. Not even me sometimes."
"I know," she said. "But I see you now, Charlotte. And I'm proud—not just of your accomplishments—but of who you've become."
We cried a little—me softly, her trying to hide it but failing. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and somehow, everything outside looked lighter. Like the clouds had thinned a little.
Later that evening, I found James waiting outside my class building with two coffee cups in hand.
"Thought you might need this," he said. "You've had a long day."
"How'd you know?"
He smirked. "I've known you long enough to read your eyes."
We sat together on the campus bench, watching puddles reflect the lamplight.
"You've changed, Charlotte," he said suddenly.
"Is that a good thing?"
"The best thing. But not because you became someone new… but because you finally let the world see who you were all along."
That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I felt a strange calmness settle over me.
I was no longer living for approval or validation. I had spoken truths, mended bonds, and grown into a version of myself I genuinely liked.
And this journey—it wasn't over.
But I was ready for every step of it.