Crossroads

by Laurel Hightower

Having her own child meant she knew there was nothing she could have done to earn it, and though it hurt, she’d let go of the idea that she and her mother would ever have a real relationship.

The whole time her baby lay screaming on the table, through three failed attempts to attach an IV to his little ankle, Chris had held him, locked eyes, and kept calm. Not because that was how she felt, but because it was what he needed.

Chris didn’t love her mother, and she wouldn’t miss her. A terrible thing to admit, and a truth she’d shied away from for years, until the right therapist had pointed out that the woman had done a stellar job of killing any natural love Chris might have held for her.