The Red Light I Couldn’t See, The Love That Was Never There Chapter 06
By the time the train reached my hometown, it was after ten.
I dragged my suitcase out of the station. A cool breeze hit my face, carrying the familiar scent of damp
earth.
This was the small town where I grew up. I knew every street and intersection.
Yet as I walked through it now, I suddenly felt like a stranger in my own hometown.
At my front door, I hesitated, my hand trembling slightly as I took out my key.
The moment I opened the door, the TV in the living room was still on.
My mom was curled up on the couch, knitting. She looked up when she heard me.
“Sophie? Why are you back this late?”
Her gaze fell on the suitcase behind me, and her smile slowly faded.
“Where’s Ethan? Didn’t he come back with you?”
I changed into slippers, carried my suitcase inside, set it against the wall, and sat beside her.
The cushion sank beneath me. I caught my mom’s familiar scent, and my nose suddenly stung.
“Mom, Ethan and I broke up.”
The knitting needles in her hands went still.
She looked at me for several seconds, then set the sweater on the coffee table and slipped an arm around
my shoulders.
“What happened? Did you two fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight.”
I rested my head against her shoulder, my voice muffled.
“We just broke up. I was the one who ended it.”
She didn’t rush to ask why. She only patted my back.
After a long silence, she finally asked softly,
“Sophie, tell Mom the truth. Are you hurting?”
I thought for a moment, then said, “No. I’m just a little tired.”
She sighed and pulled me closer.
“Then don’t go back to him.”
“I’ve told you before. Love is supposed to make you happy.”
“If all it does is make you feel wronged, you’d be better off alone.”
My eyes stung at once.
She didn’t ask for more details. She didn’t tell me to think it over or insist that Ethan was actually a good guy.
She only let me rest my head against her shoulder and patted me again and again.
“I’ll make you some short rib soup tomorrow. You’ve lost weight.”
I hummed softly and buried my face in her sweater.
The familiar scent of home wrapped around me.
The cut on my leg didn’t seem to hurt quite as much anymore.
That night, I slept in the bed I’d slept in since I was a child.
The curtains weren’t fully closed, and moonlight slipped through the gap, drawing a thin white line across the
floor.
From the room next door came the sound of my mom turning over, followed by her sleepy cough.
I closed my eyes and slept more peacefully than ever before.
