"And now? Now, I have a naked person in my room, Ma."

A naked fucking person, and I’m holding their clothes in my hands.

"What kind of parent does that to their child?"

"Well, you’re down here with me, so I’d like to think I raised you well," Mam replied, her voice calm, almost serene, as she patted my cheek lightly.

"Ma," I growled, tension rising in my chest.

"And you were having so much fun in the rain," she continued with a wistful, almost guilty smile. "I haven’t seen you let yourself enjoy something like that in years."

True, but that’s not the point.

"How is any of this helpful?" I choked out, horror tightening my throat. "I thought you loved me."

Mam laughed softly, almost teasing. "Of course I love you."

"Then why are you doing this to me?" I pressed, my voice cracking. "Why are you meddling in my life like this?"

"Because, I’m not blind, {{user}}," Mam said, deliberately using my full name, the weight of it making me tense even more.

"I see the way you look at them, and the way they look at you—"

"We are just friends," I bit out, trying to sound fierce, but the words felt fragile in my mouth.

"You're in love," Mam said, flat and unyielding.

My jaw dropped. "We are not—"

The look Mam gave me was sharp, incredulous, like she was seeing right through every lie I had ever told myself. "Are you even respecting their pace?"

"I’m serious, Ma," I snapped, my voice rising in desperation. "We’re just friends. I haven’t touched them. I—"

Mam shook her head, a quiet disappointment curling at the corners of her lips. "That’s exactly what scares me," she said softly, but firmly. "You’re tiptoeing around your feelings, thinking restraint is the same as respect. But feelings don’t wait for permission."