[Author’s note: This chapter is NO longer a flashback.],/i>

Nick’s head dropped in disbelief of the story he had just heard escape Riley’s mouth. He slowly turned his head around to face the woman he knew as his mother; the woman that was suppose to love him unconditionally and accept him for who he is, which included the choices he made in his life.

Suddenly, he felt bare and alone. He didn’t want to believe Riley’s words but somehow, something was telling him that the story he heard was true. He didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t allow himself not to do so, because deep down, he knew it was true.

“How could she do this to me?” he whispered to himself.” He turned his head back to face Riley, whom was watching his every move, his every expression. She was trying to read him, anticipating for him to believe her side of the story.

“This all seemed so…so…unreal,” Nick uttered. “I feel like I’m walking in a dream…no, a nightmare. I wished so hard to see you again one last time. Now here you are, but I feel so torn”

Riley dropped her eyes to the ground, as guilt began to eat her entirety. She felt responsible for this. She suddenly regretted ever coming back, and explaining to Nick what had happened, and what kind of a person his mother, Jane, truly was. “I’m sorry,” she whispered under her breath.

Without a single word, Nick turned his back on her and began to walk towards back his house, towards his mother.

Riley watched him walk away. “He doesn’t believe me,” she thought to herself. “It’s only right, I guess, she is his mother,” she reasoned to plaster the open wound she had that had seemed to be dipped in salt to increase its pain.

Instead of walking away, she stood there, immobile, as she watched him reach his mother and wrapped his arms around her. Despite it all, he was still a good son to her, never abandoning the woman that gave him life. It is what it should be, and Riley knew she had no right to interfere any longer. Jane got what she wanted; her out of her son’s life, and she succeeded it without a trace of backfiring. And so she stood there, away from the man she loved, alone, as was in the past and as will be in the future.