Marissa's hands trembled on her lap.
She took another deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm inside her chest.
She thought of her daughters, of the trust they had placed in her over the years, of the love that should have been pure and untouchable.
And now that love felt fragile, cracked, and vulnerable—like a delicate vase dropped to the floor.
"I… I'm so sorry, Lea," she whispered again, the words nearly lost in the silence of the room.
"I don't want to lose you, or your trust. I can't promise I'll never make mistakes again… but I can promise I'll never stop loving you. Please… try to understand. Please try to forgive me, even if it's just a little."
The room fell silent, the air heavy with unsaid words, with shock, hurt, and an overwhelming tide of emotion neither of them could yet untangle.
And Marissa stayed there, sitting in her chair, trembling, ashamed, and hoping against hope that her daughter's love for her could somehow survive the truth.
