Jess peeked into her mum’s room, saw she was asleep, and quietly closed the door.
“Jess,” her mum called out weakly.
“Yeah, Mum?” Jess stepped back in. “Thought you were asleep. Need anything? I was just heading out with the girls for a bit.”
“Go on, I’ll rest,” Julia murmured, closing her eyes. Even lifting her heavy lids took all her strength.
Jess let out a relieved sigh and rushed to get ready. Since her mum got sick, she’d learned to move silently. She tiptoed down the stairs. Outside, her classmate Josh Turner was waiting, leaning against the railing.
“Took you long enough,” he grumbled instead of saying hello.
“Had to make Mum some soup. Where we going?” Jess forced a smile, trying to smooth things over.
“She still poorly?”
“Yeah, just fell asleep. Not too long, yeah? In case she needs me,” Jess said.
“She’ll be fine, sleeps it off,” Josh brushed it off.
Jess bit her lip. She hadn’t told anyone what was really wrong with her mum. Didn’t want their pity or the whole school talking.
“Great, now it’s raining. Let’s go round Tom’s, his folks are at the cottage,” Josh whispered, pulling her close and trying to kiss her.
Jess jerked her head away. “What if someone sees?”
“Who? Your mum’s asleep. Coming?”
She hesitated. Last time they went to Tom’s, Josh wouldn’t leave her alone. She liked him, but he was pushing too fast.
“Just half an hour, promise I won’t hassle you,” he pleaded as the rain got heavier.
“Fine, but not long,” Jess gave in.
“Course.” Josh hid his smirk.
Tom answered the door, grinning when he saw them. “Get in.”
Jess stayed rooted. Being alone with two lads didn’t sit right.
“Downloaded a sick film yesterday,” Tom said. Josh toed off his trainers and followed him inside. Now was her chance to leave—but home felt just as bleak.
She shut the door and sat next to Josh. His arm instantly draped behind her. Tom handed them each a beer. Jess refused hers, so Josh took it, earning a sideways glance.
The film was actually good, pulling her in—until she felt Josh’s hand under her top. She flinched, but he held her shoulder, grip tightening.
“Oi, that hurts!” she yelped.
He loosened up, and Jess bolted from the sofa. Tom was gone—she hadn’t even noticed him leave.
“Jess, sorry,” Josh mumbled.
“You *promised*!”
“Relax, it’s not like it’s your first time. I love you.” He stood too.
First time he’d said that. Jess froze, couldn’t push him away. His kisses tasted like stale beer, his hands rougher now.
“Stop—I gotta go,” she gasped, shoving at his chest.
Suddenly, he hauled her onto the sofa, pinning her down. She fought, kneeing him hard between the legs.
“Bloody hell!” He rolled off, cursing.
Jess scrambled up, grabbed her trainers, and fumbled with the lock.
“Yeah, sod off then!” Josh yelled after her.
She fled down the stairs in her socks, only stopping to yank her shoes on once outside. How could she’ve trusted him? Mum was ill, and he—all he wanted was one thing.
At home, she scrubbed her face and neck, washing away the feel of him. Sat in the dark, thinking: What if Mum dies? She’d be alone. How would she live? Eighteen in two months—no more child support from Dad. No money, not even for prom. But none of it mattered if Mum got better.
She’d Googled Mum’s meds weeks ago. Knew it was cancer.
Her phone buzzed—Josh. “Jess, sorry.” She ignored it. Messages flooded in: apologies, then anger, then abuse. She turned it off.
Before bed, she checked on Mum.
“Mum, you awake?”
Julia’s eyes barely opened. “Need anything? Water? Loo?”
A slight head shake. Eyes closed again.
Morning came with a crash. Jess sprinted in—Mum was swaying, clutching the bedframe, a chair overturned.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Jess scolded, shocked by how light she felt lifting her.
“Thought I could…” Julia panted like she’d run a mile.
“I’ll make tea.” Jess hurried out.
Mum barely sipped it. Hadn’t eaten in days.
Jess’s stomach churned. She wanted to stay—couldn’t face Josh anyway. But exams were close. She’d skip history, come home early.
Back from school, Mum was still asleep. Same position. Jess touched her bony shoulder—cold. She recoiled, hand over her mouth, then ran to the neighbour. The kind old lady took one look and called an ambulance.
The next days blurred. The woman in the coffin didn’t look like Mum. Jess remembered her before the illness.
While sorting papers, she found an old schoolbook—pages filled with Mum’s handwriting. No dates, just memories.
*…How old was I when I met Nate? Younger than Jess is now. His last name—Whitman—made me laugh. Asked if he was related to the poet. He just smiled.*
*Too soon. He was seven years older, seemed so grown. I didn’t even know it was love—real love. He never pressured me. What could I offer? I was daft, didn’t appreciate him, let him go.*
*Sometimes love comes too early. I wanted dances, teddy bears, not French perfume. Jess is wiser than I was.*
*…Met my ex at a dance. Married too quick. First time was nothing like the films. Then the divorce. Alone with Jess.*
*Kept thinking of Nate. Maybe with him, life’d been different. But we idealise what we lose.*
Jess wept. Mum had known real love—not like her mess with Josh.
She searched online for Nate Whitman, found hundreds. Dug out an old photo from the back of an album: “For keeps. Nate.” Blurry, but it was something.
Messaged every Nate matching the photo. Two weeks later, a reply: “That’s my dad. Send your number.” But no call came.
Days later, a knock. A stranger stood there—tall, well-dressed, mid-twenties.
“You Jess? Mind if I come in? Not a psycho, promise.”
She let him in. His cologne was sharp, expensive.
“Why’d you track me down?”
“Not you—your dad. He died six months back. Heart attack. My mum… she wrote about him. Before she died.”
“Ah.” He glanced around. “Got any food? Just got off the train.”
The fridge held eggs, half a loaf, milk. “Only scrambled eggs.”
He ate without complaint. “Tough living alone?”
She bristled. “Finishing school. Neighbours chipped in. I’ll work soon.”
“Dad around?”
“Left when I was one. Mum warned me about him in her diary. Your dad… she loved him. I just wanted to know if he loved her too.”
They talked. His name was Liam.
“Train’s tonight,” he said finally.
“Why come? Could’ve called.”
He hesitated. “Thought you might be my half-sister. Weird over the phone.”
Jess liked him instantly—easy, kind. Felt like family.
Liam left cash in the cupboard. “Ticket money. Come to London.”
Life flipped overnight. She moved in with Liam, rented out Mum’s flat. Six months later, they married.
It all went so fast. The good, the hard—but never enough time.
She thought of Mum’s last words: *Life’s in the little things. You see too late.*
Jess touched her belly. “Not alone, Mum. Liam’s my family now. We got it right.”
