A mother’s Pride Part I

anticipated her difficulty in responding to my confession, yet I hoped she wouldn’t perceive it as a joke.

I knew she was too kind to seize this opportunity without hesitation, but to my surprise, her kindness seemed to be her own undoing.

She has been silent since we left the garden. While I expected my confession to be shocking, her silence is agonizing.

I despise driving. If I were seated next to her, perhaps I could have drawn something out of her.

Though she sits beside me, I cannot engage with her as I drive. It pains me to admit, but I am still haunted by the trauma of the accident involving my parents.

It's safe to say I fear distraction leading to another accident.

After a long ride, we finally arrived home. Exiting the car, I hurried to her side, but as expected, she brushed off my help.

“I can get out by myself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I squeezed my fingers. I couldn’t believe I said that.

She smiled and cleared her throat. “Well, I got her to smile.”

“I think we should rest for the