Mom

Then I saw her. Sitting at a nearby table was my mother. My real mother. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut, and I couldn't breathe. Aunt Helen told me that they had agreed to meet there.

Everything around me faded—the laughter of Tracy, the flirtatious banter with Alejandro, the glow of the lights. It was as if time had paused, leaving only the heavy pounding of my heart and the overwhelming rush of emotions. Guilt, longing, fear... all of it churned inside me, threatening to pull me under like the ocean's relentless waves.

Aunt Helen must have noticed the way I'd frozen, because she leaned over and gently placed her hand on mine. "Heather," she whispered, her voice calm and grounding. "Is everything okay?"

I swallowed hard; my eyes still fixed on my mother. She looked so different from the last time I'd seen her, but also heartbreakingly the same. Would she recognize me now? Did she still think about me, her lost son, who had been transformed into this delicate, beautiful girl sitting under the Cancun sky?

I couldn't speak, couldn't move. My past and present had collided, and I didn't know how to reconcile the two. Heather had become my reality, but in that moment, seeing my mother, I felt the ghost of John stirring inside me, desperate to be seen and remembered.

Aunt Helen's comforting touch didn't anchor me the way I hoped. The sight of my mother laughing, the way her face lit up, twisted something deep inside me. All the months of being Heather, of letting go of John, felt like they were crashing back in an unstoppable tide.

Alejandro's voice broke through the storm of my thoughts, warm and teasing. "Heather, are you daydreaming? Or is the guacamole that captivating?"

I forced a smile, feeling my cheeks warm. "Sorry," I managed, focusing on his amused eyes, trying to ground myself in the present, in Heather. "I guess I'm just taking in everything."

Tracy leaned in, her giggle infectious. "Heather is always lost in her thoughts." She winked at Alejandro, playing along with the flirtation effortlessly, while I struggled to keep up.

But then Aunt Helen leaned closer, her voice low and filled with a protective seriousness. "Heather, do you need to step away for a moment?"

I nodded, my hands trembling. "Yes," I whispered, standing up. I had to see her, but I didn't know what I would say. I just knew I couldn't let the moment pass. My legs felt wobbly under me, but I pushed through, the noise of the restaurant fading as I approached the table where my mother sat.

Her laughter still echoed, and I realized how long it had been since I heard it directed at me. How would she react to Heather, this girl I had become, or was forced to become? My heart pounded, and as I stood there, the world felt frozen, the air heavy with the past and everything I had lost.

My mother looked up, her laughter freezing in her throat as she saw me standing there. Her eyes—so familiar, so full of love and pain—widened slightly, as if she was trying to place me, to make sense of the girl in front of her. It felt like hours passed, though it was only seconds.

I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling. "Mom?"

Her glass slipped slightly in her hand, the ice cubes clinking together. Her friends glanced between us, sensing the sudden shift in the air, but she didn't seem to notice them. Her focus was entirely on me, her gaze searching my face for something, anything, she recognized.

"John?" she whispered, and the name cut through me like a blade. Her voice cracked on the word, and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. Here I was, Heather, standing in front of her, but she saw John—the son she had lost, the boy who had been forced to disappear.

I nodded, my heart breaking all over again. "It's me," I choked out. "Mom, it's... it's me."

I wanted to say something else, but the words stuck in my throat. I looked down at myself, at the soft curves and the dress that clung to them, and I felt the overwhelming confusion, the loss of who I used to be.

Aunt Helen was suddenly beside me, her hand firm on my shoulder, grounding me. "It's a

As we turned to leave, I felt Alejandro's gaze on me, confused and concerned, but I couldn't face him. Not now. This moment was too fragile, too heavy with everything I had fought to keep hidden. I walked away with my mother and Aunt Helen, the weight of both Heather and John pressing down on me, unsure of who I was or who I would be once the truth was finally laid bare.