[Micheal's POV]
The sound of the front door opening pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up from where I was sitting on the couch, restless as if I'd waiting- which I was.
"Mum"
She stepped in, shutting the door with a small thud. Her smile was the same as always, soft but tired, like she wanted to convince me she was fine. "What's with the face, love? You look like you've been waiting up all night. "
I stood up, shifting awkwardly. "I was just making sure you got back safely."
She waved her hand like it was nothing. "I'm here aren't I? No need to fuss over me, you've got better things to worry about."
But I didn't. Not really.
"Where's your father?" She asked, her tone careful but casual, like she was testing the air.
I hesitated but said the same thing Joey told me. "He's still there."
Something flickered in her expression, her smile didn't falter but her eyes softened. She let out a breath, almost a sigh, and I couldn't tell if it was relief or sadness. Maybe both.
"Still there, huh," she repeated quietly more to herself than to me. Her shoulder relaxed but the weight was still there.
Mum slipped off her shoes, setting them neatly by the door. For a moment, she just stood there, rubbing her hands together like she was thinking of something to say. Then her eyes flicked to me, softer now.
"I didn't even ask- how was school? First proper week and all that. Bet you're settling in just fine."
"It was alright," I said, not giving much away, I didn't feel like talking about school, not when I was still worried.
She smiled, a little hopeful. "Good. I hope you like it there, Michael. That's what matters."
I nodded, though my chest still felt heavy. "Yeah."
She noticed, of course. "Don't look at me like that," she said with a shrug, forcing another small laugh. "I was just with Tina. Nothing more."
I wanted to believe her. I almost did. But the worry didn't quite leave me, hanging there between us, quiet but steady. I kept it to myself, though. I didn't want to make it harder for her. Because that was the last thing I ever wanted to do- make her already hard life harder.
Mum rubbed her eyes as she stood by the stairs. "I'm going to bed love, I'm worn out."
She pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Her voice gentle but heavy with tiredness. "Goodnight, Micheal."
I wanted to say something- ask if she was really okay, if she needed anything- but the words stayed stuck in my throat. Instead, I managed, "Goodnight, Mum."
She smiled faintly and started up the stairs, her hand trailing along the banister. Halfway up, she paused. "Where's your brother. "
I shook my head. "Don't know."
She frowned but didn't say anything else and disappeared into the hallway. I turned off the light in the living room and headed for my room.
As I passed the landing, I heard her voice, soft but firm, drifting from down the hall. "Come to bed now. It's late."
Dad's voice followed, low and stubborn. "Not yet."
I slowed for a moment, listening, but the rest was muffled, their words swallowed by the walls. I didn't stay to catch more. My chest felt heavy again, but I pushed open my door, stepped inside, and closed it quietly behind me.