Chapter Text
The argument started the way they usually did with something small.
A text Beth had seen light up on Emma’s phone. A picture. A boy’s name she didn’t recognize.
“Who’s Nate?” Beth asked, leaning on the kitchen island.
Emma’s head snapped up from where she was digging in the fridge. “He’s just a friend.”
Beth folded her arms and glared “A friend who texts you at midnight?”
Emma’s eyes rolled so hard Beth could practically hear it. “Oh my God, Mom, you go through my phone once and suddenly you’re the FBI.”
“I wasn’t going through it,” Beth said sharply. “You left it on the counter, and I saw the notification.”
“Yeah, and you still clicked it!”
“I was worried!”
“You’re always worried!” Emma’s voice cracked, high and raw. “You act like I’m gonna ruin my life if I breathe wrong!”
Beth felt the heat rise in her chest. “You’re fifteen, Emma. You don’t understand what
“What the world is like, yeah, I know!” Emma cut her off. “You don’t have to keep saying it!”
“Watch your tone.”
Emma’s jaw clenched. “Why? You don’t listen anyway.”
Beth’s breath hitched, but she tried to keep her voice calm. “I listen.”
“You don’t!” Emma shouted. “You just wait for me to stop talking so you can lecture me. You only care about being right. Or about him.”
Beth froze. “Excuse me?”
Emma’s eyes blazed. “You heard me! You care more about Rio than you do about me! You’re always defending him, acting like he’s so great, like he’s part of our family”
“He is part of our family,” Beth said quietly, but there was an edge in it.
“Not mine.”
Beth’s chest went tight. “That’s enough, Emma.”
“Why? ‘Cause I’m telling the truth?”
“Because you’re being disrespectful!”
Emma laughed sharp, humorless. “You mean I’m acting like you. You’re so perfect, right? You did crimes, Mom! You literally robbed people, and now you wanna lecture me about morals?”
Beth’s face flushed; her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Emma pressed on, tears filling her eyes.
“You’re a hypocrite,” she said, voice shaking. “You tell me not to lie, not to sneak around, not to screw up but that’s all you ever did! You’re the worst mom ever!”
And then she was gone. The front door slammed, rattling the picture frames.
Beth stood in the kitchen, the words echoing off the walls until all she could hear was her own heartbeat.
She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted salt. Her hands were shaking; she gripped the counter to steady herself. The fight had escalated so fast she could barely remember how they got there.
Worst mom ever.
She wanted to run after Emma, but her legs felt like lead. The rain had started outside, a thin drizzle tapping against the windows. She slid down to the floor, pressing her palms to her temples.
How had she gotten here? How had she become the kind of mother her daughter ran away from?
She thought of all the nights she’d stayed up with Emma when she was sick, the birthday cakes she’d baked, the late-night drives home from dance practice. And somehow none of that mattered. All Emma could see was the woman who messed up.
Beth pulled her knees to her chest and let herself sob. It was ugly, choking, years of guilt and exhaustion all boiling over.
That’s how Rio found her.
He had come in quietly, the sound of rain following him through the door. When he saw her on the floor, mascara streaked, eyes red, he froze.
“Elizabeth?” His voice was soft,
She looked up, startled. “She’s gone.”
He shut the door behind him, crouched beside her. “What happened?”
Beth laughed weakly, wiping at her cheeks. “Teenager happened.”
Rio studied her face, then reached out, brushing his thumb under her eye. “You been cryin’ hard, ma"
“She told me I’m the worst mom ever,” Beth whispered. “And she meant it.”
Rio leaned back on his heels. “She fifteen. That’s the age where every mom’s the worst.”
Beth shook her head. “No. She… she said things I can’t unhear.”
He sat down next to her, his shoulder pressing against hers. “Tell me.”
“She said I care more about you than her.”
Rio looked away for a moment, then back at her. “That what you think too?”
Beth’s throat tightened. “No. But maybe that’s what it feels like to her. Maybe I’ve been so focused on holding everything together this house, our life, keeping things normal that I stopped noticing what she needed.”
“Don’t do that,” Rio said gently. “Don’t start takin’ all the blame.”
“I am to blame!” she snapped, tears fresh. “I dragged her through everything, Rio. The money, the lies, the fear. She saw me at my worst. She’s probably still scared I’ll mess it all up again.”
Rio exhaled, staring at the rain outside. “She’s scared ‘cause she loves you.”
Beth let out a shaky breath. “She said I’m a hypocrite. And she’s right.”
He turned his head toward her. “Nah. She’s angry. That ain’t the same thing.”
Beth stared at her hands. “You should’ve heard her voice. The way she said it like she wanted to hurt me.”
Rio placed a hand on her knee. “You ever say somethin’ like that to your mom?”
Beth’s mouth curved bitterly. “Once. Maybe twice.”
“And you didn’t mean it, right?”
She looked up, eyes wet. “…No.”
“Then there you go.”
Beth huffed a quiet, broken laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”
He shrugged lightly. “Ain’t simple. But it’s true.”
They sat there in silence for a long time. The rain thickened outside, thunder rumbling far off. Beth leaned her head on his shoulder, her breath uneven.
“She’s probably at Annie’s,” she murmured.
“Probably,” he said. “You want me to go check?”
Beth hesitated, then shook her head. “She needs space. If I chase her, she’ll just push harder.”
Rio nodded. “Then we wait.”
He reached for her hand. She let him take it, their fingers intertwining. His thumb drew small circles against her skin.
“You good at this,” she said after a while.
“What?”
“Making me feel less like I’m drowning.”
He smiled faintly. “That’s ‘cause you forget you been swimmin’ in worse waters than this.”
Beth gave a soft, shaky laugh and wiped her face again.
It was nearly midnight when the door finally creaked open.
Beth looked up from the couch, heart jumping. Emma stood in the doorway, soaked from the rain, hair plastered to her hoodie. Her eyes were red, her expression small.
Rio stayed in the kitchen, giving them space.
Beth rose slowly. “You’re freezing.”
“I walked,” Emma muttered.
“Where?”
“Nowhere. I just needed air.”
Beth stepped closer, cautious. “You scared me.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean to yell,” Beth said softly.
Emma’s chin trembled. “I didn’t mean what I said.”
Beth’s breath hitched.
Emma wiped her eyes. “I don’t think you’re the worst mom ever. I was just mad. And hurt. And it came out wrong.”
Beth closed the space between them and pulled her into her arms. Emma collapsed against her instantly, sobbing into her chest.
Beth’s own tears came again, hot and relentless. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can be mad at me. You can hate me for a minute. I’ll still love you.”
“I don’t hate you,” Emma mumbled. “I just everything’s so weird now. You and him, and school, and me growing up I don’t know where I fit anymore.”
Beth kissed the top of her head. “You fit right here. Always.”
They stayed like that until Emma’s breathing steadied. Then Beth guided her toward the stairs. “Go change, baby. Get warm. I’ll make you some soup.”
Emma nodded and disappeared upstairs.
Beth lingered at the bottom step, watching the shadows move under her daughter’s door. When she turned around, Rio was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“She’s good,” he said quietly. “You both are.”
Beth walked over, brushing her hair out of her face. “You heard all that?”
“Hard not to. Walls thin.”
She sighed. “You think she’ll forgive me?”
“She already did,” he said simply. “You said what needed sayin’. She heard you.”
Beth leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, strong and steady.
“Parenting’s brutal,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Ain’t for the weak, that’s for sure.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “Thank you for being here.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ain’t nowhere else I’d be.”
Beth smiled through her exhaustion. “I love you.”
Rio’s hand cupped her cheek. “I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Now go make that soup before she gets hungry again.”
Beth laughed softly, the sound tired but real.
Later, when the house was quiet again, Beth stood in Emma’s doorway. The girl was curled under her blanket, damp hair spread across the pillow, breathing slow and even.
Beth watched her for a long moment, chest tight. Then she whispered, “I love you,” and closed the door.
Downstairs, Rio was waiting on the couch. Beth sank beside him, tucking her legs under herself. He pulled her close until her head rested against his shoulder.
“See?” he murmured. “Told you she’d come back.”
Beth smiled faintly. “You were right.”
He smirked. “Always am.”
She swatted his arm, laughing through her tears.
Beth exhaled, the tension finally leaving her body. The fight, the tears, the wordsthey still hurt, but they didn’t define them. What mattered was that Emma came home.
Rio’s thumb traced slow circles on her hand, grounding her. “Get some sleep,” he murmured. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”
Beth nodded, eyes closing. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Tomorrow.”