"Come back, Luca." She whispered. "We can go back to living as a family...We can go back to being the one big, happy, and ever-so-chaotic household we were in the past, where silence was probably the rarest commodity because of how lively it was."
I felt my heart tighten, the weight of her plea settling deep inside me.
"You're the glue that holds us together, you know, my dear baby boy." She continued, her smile tinged with nostalgia. "You always have been. Without you, everything feels…off. Like a puzzle missing its centre piece."
She tilted her head, lost in the memories.
"Remember when you first used to cook with us in the kitchen when you were a child?...You were terrible at it, mixing everything up and spilling stuff everywhere." She laughed lightly. "But you made us laugh so hard with your disasters that we didn't care how bad the food tasted or how bad it was burnt."
I chuckled despite myself, recalling the chaos of spilt flour and smoke alarms.
"And those movie nights." She added, her eyes softening. "You'd always fall asleep first, but we'd stay up and watch you instead—just to hear you snore and mumble in your sleep."
I chuckled, finally understanding why I always felt like I was being watched even in my sleep.
"You made everything brighter, Luca." She said with an exuberant look on her face. "Even when we were tired, or worried, or just overwhelmed by life, you brought us together...You were our pillar, the one we leaned on without even realising it."
"...I just want that feeling back. I want you back." Her voice grew quieter, more vulnerable.
Her gaze searched mine, full of hope and fear intertwined. She was laying her heart bare, asking for something she knew I might refuse.
I swallowed hard, the memories wrapping around me like a soft blanket—the warmth of those moments, the laughter, the comfort of being surrounded by love...It all felt so close, like I could reach out and touch it.
But that distance between who I was then and who I was now loomed large.
"I…" The word stuck in my throat, heavy and unformed. My eyes drifted to the floor, searching for something—anything—that might make this easier...But nothing came.
She watched me carefully, her hopeful expression flickering as if a soft breeze had threatened to snuff it out. Her fingers tightened around the bundle of clothes she still held. The silence stretched between us, thick and fragile.
A soft sigh finally escaped her lips. Her smile faltered, but she caught it before it crumbled entirely.
"It's okay, dear." She said, her voice light but lined with sadness. "You don't have to answer right now. Take your time. Think about it as long as you need."
I looked up at her, the weight of her understanding pressing down harder than any accusation ever could. She was giving me an out, but I could see the struggle in her eyes. She didn't want another refusal, not when she was holding onto the slimmest chance that I might say yes.
The room felt stifling, the air filled with things left unsaid. Her eyes shimmered with a vulnerability I rarely saw. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something—to explain, to reassure—but the words tangled into knots I couldn't untie.
Before the silence could swallow us whole, she inhaled sharply and straightened up. Her tone shifted, brightening just enough to break the tension.
"Well, go on." She said, shooing me toward the door. "Get out so I can change."
She paused, a mischievous spark lighting her eyes as she added with a sly grin,
"Unless, of course, you'd prefer to stay and watch your mother change, you little perv?"
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "Alright, alright. I'm going." My voice sounded distant, like I was listening to someone else speak.
Without another word, I turned and walked out of the room, my mind swirling with thoughts I wasn't ready to confront. The click of the door closing behind me felt louder than it should have, like a seal on unfinished business.
My mother watched me leave, her smile finally slipping away once I was out of sight. The playful glint in her eyes faded, replaced by a deep weariness. She hugged one of my shirts to her chest, the familiar scent offering a sliver of comfort.
"Idiot." She whispered to herself, rubbing her temples. "Why did I have to bring up such dreary things?" Her voice trembled just enough to betray the ache she tried to hide.
She sat down on the bed, fingers absently smoothing over the fabric of my clothes. "I just wanted to laugh today…to see you smile." She murmured. The bundle of clothes felt warm in her arms, a stand-in for the son she couldn't quite reach.
Her gaze wandered to the scattered clothes around her, her eyes softening. "Some days, it's like you're right here..." She said quietly to no one in particular. "...And some days, it's like you're a million miles away."
I leaned against the hallway wall, my head falling back with a dull thud. The weight in my chest was relentless, a tangle of guilt, longing, and determination that seemed impossible to unravel. My mother's words still echoed in my mind, tinged with that unmistakable mix of hope and hurt.
She wants me to come home. To live with them again. To be the glue that held everyone together, just like I used to...The thought warmed me and crushed me at the same time.
"God, I want that too..." I muttered under my breath.
It was the truth, raw and simple. I did want to go back.
To wake up to their voices, to feel their warmth and presence in my daily life. To lose myself in the chaotic love that only they could give. That feeling of being surrounded, not by suffocation, but by safety. By them.
And now, with the blessing from my true mother—the silent permission to embrace feelings I once buried—there was no reason to hesitate. No reason to deny the pull in my heart...My intentions were clear now, the fog of confusion finally lifting.
But even if my heart was ready, reality wasn't so kind.
I knew that if I walked back through that door and rejoined them all at once, it would be impossible. They would close ranks, their maternal instincts forming an impenetrable wall.
No matter how much I tried, they'd see me only as their son, their boy, the child they raised. The idea of anything else would be shut down before it even had a chance to bloom.
I'd be devoured.
"Yeah, no chance in hell." I chuckled dryly at the thought.
But if things were different—if one of them was separated, given space to think for herself, to see me as someone beyond just her son—there might be hope.
Alone, each of them was vulnerable. Alone, their hearts could be swayed, not by manipulation, but by honesty...By the truth of who I had become and what I felt.
This wasn't about tricking them; it was about reaching them. Showing them a part of myself they hadn't seen before. The part that longed to stand beside them, not just as a son, but as a man who could love them fully.
I let out a sigh, my lips curving into a determined smile...One step at a time.
If I went back now, I'd be swallowed whole. But this way—meeting them one by one, connecting with them away from the collective hive mind—I had a chance. A real one.
I pushed off the wall, the knot in my chest easing just a little. The path was clear, even if it was slow.
I'll bring us back together, I promised silently. And we'll be a family again, stronger than before. But this time, it wouldn't be just the family we used to be.
"I'll steal their hearts and...Hehe...Their bodies as well...All of them." I clenched my fist, resolve lighting up my veins.
A soft laugh escaped me, almost incredulous at my own audacity. But that was the plan. One by one, I'd win them over...Not as a boy, but as someone who could stand by their side.
The day we all lived under one roof again wasn't far off. I could feel it. And when that day came, it wouldn't be because I was their son...It would be because I was the man they wanted by their side.