Chapter Text
It was your birthday, but nobody came.
Specifically, you had been hoping your mom would come home early from work. You hadn’t expected anyone else. You didn’t have any friends. And maybe that was because you were more than just a little bit awkward, or maybe it was because you were never quite able to muster the courage to speak to anybody your age.
Or maybe it was because you were just wrong and you didn’t deserve to have any friends.
But your mom should have been home by now. Today was a Friday, and Fridays were some of her busiest days at work, but she had promised—and you felt so bad, you felt so selfish being upset over this, but it was almost eight at night and you had been hoping, since it was your birthday—
Mom so often broke her promises to spend more time with you, but you had been hoping, on your tenth birthday, she wouldn’t.
And you felt guilty and you felt selfish. You so tried not to think this way. It wasn’t as if Mom was out partying or having fun; she was working. She was probably having another hard day at work, she often worked so hard—
Mom had often explained to you how hard it was to support you both because Dad wasn’t ever around.
Not that Dad was a bad person. He had just never married Mom. And now that he was married, he was so busy. He and his wife had three children—your half-siblings? It was so bizarre to think of them as your siblings, you saw them and their mom even less frequently than you saw Dad.
But still, Dad had called you today. It had been late when he did, but he had called. He always remembered your birthday, even if his calls were brief. Even if he barely saw you.
But he barely saw you because he had three children and his wife often wanted to spend family time together and it was so selfish of you, really, to want to steal that time away from them.
Mom finally came home while you were on the phone with Dad and you felt so bad to have to end the call, but you did so you could hug Mom. It was almost time for the twin’s bedtime story anyway and you knew Dad never skipped that.
He was a great dad.
Mom kissed you in the cheek and she looked tired, so tired, but she still smiled at you and handed you a bag. “Sorry I’m home so late, sweetie. Work was insane today. Happy birthday! This is for you.”
You tried hard to smile and said “Thanks, mom,” as you opened it. She had probably bought it last minute, but the fact that she remembered—that she went through the trouble to get you anything—
Your heart stopped and you almost cried when you looked inside the bag and saw the sweater.
It was the exact one you had wanted at the beginning of the school year, when Mom had taken you clothes shopping on her day off. You hadn’t been able to afford it back then, you had felt so selfish for pointing it out before you knew how expensive that sweater was, but Mom had remembered, she had gone back to the store just to get it for you—
“They only had it in a Large,” Mom told you, and she sounded apologetic, but you didn’t care what size the sweater was. You didn’t care that it was too big for you.
You hugged Mom so tight.
She may not always be around, and you more often than not felt like an inconvenience to her, but at least your mom cared. She loved you.
And you loved your mom so, so much.