"Forget about the business for now. Use the money to live a fabulous, fancy life," she said, flashing him a warm smile.
Then her expression shifted gentle but serious.
"There's something I've been meaning to say to you."
Martin looked up, sensing the change in tone.
"I'm planning to travel for a while," she continued. "You're an adult now, and I have nothing to worry about anymore. You've grown up well, Martin. Don't dwell on one rejection. Plenty of fish in the sea just cast your net, and one day, you'll find your goldfish."
Wait… what?
Martin blinked, struggling to catch up.
Just a minute ago, they were laughing and teasing each other. Now she was talking about travelling and giving him life advice like a farewell speech.
Weren't we talking about opening a small store? He thought, confused and unsettled.
"And just remember," she added softly, "Mum will always be with you. No matter the distance."
Martin's brows drew together. Her words… her tone… it all felt too final.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
He had a thousand questions but didn't know which one to start with. Everything was spinning too fast.
"I don't have a specific destination," she replied, eyes darting away from his.
"Look at me," she said quickly, trying to shift the mood. "It's getting late. Rest early."
"Mum… are you in trouble?" Martin asked his voice firm but pleading. "If something's wrong, we can talk. We can come up with a solution together."
"I'm not in trouble, son. Don't fret over small issues," she said with a forced lightness.
"So… when will you be back?"
Mariah hesitated. She didn't want to lie to him but the truth would be too painful.
She stood still for a moment, as if weighing her options, before replying:
"I'll reschedule my trip for later," she said, forcing a reassuring smile.
Martin frowned. The smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Mum… is something bothering you?" he asked again, his chest tightening with unease.
"Everything will be fine, son," she replied softly, then turned and made her way upstairs.
The only bedroom in the house was up there. Martin usually slept on the couch not the most comfortable place, but far better than letting his mother take it. Besides, he'd gotten used to it over time.
The living room was small but well-organized. In one corner, Martin had carved out a modest study space. A battered desk and a beat-up computer served as his workstation for research and freelance gigs.
The single bathroom was upstairs, next to the bedroom. They had a quiet understanding respecting each other's space and privacy in the cramped home they shared.
Now, as silence settled into the room, Martin remained seated, staring at the staircase.
Something wasn't right. And no matter how much she smiled… he could feel it.
After washing the dishes, Martin went to bed. The events of the day had taken a toll on his mind. He didn't have the energy to look for work or review his coursework. Instead, he lay down, hoping to catch some fleeting sleep.
But the rest didn't come easily.
He tossed and turned for most of the night. The sting of Aria's rejection, once sharp and consuming, now seemed distant replaced by an uneasy sense of déjà vu.
His mother's words echoed in his mind. He replayed the conversation over and over, looking for cracks, contradictions or anything. On the surface, everything she'd said made sense. Nothing seemed out of place when taken individually. But when he looked at her words as a whole, something felt… off. Like a puzzle missing one final, critical piece.
Still, his exhausted mind couldn't hold the thread for long.
With a sigh, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, letting them blur into the shadows. Eventually, he fell asleep, uneasy but deep.
Mariah sat quietly on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the floor. Her mind replayed the conversation with Martin from earlier, searching for any cracks in her words any signs she might have let something slip.
She knew Martin too well. Though introverted and quiet, he was sharp. Observant. The kind of son who noticed more than he ever said.
Sometimes, she thought with a sad smile, I wish he were just a little bit clueless.
She had teased him about being a bad liar, but the truth was, she was no better. If anything, she was worse. And tonight, hiding the truth had been harder than ever.
She didn't want him to worry. She didn't want him to see the fear in her eyes. But she was afraid. Terrified, even. Her condition had worsened. The fainting spell earlier that day had been the final confirmation her body was beginning to give out.
She couldn't let Martin go through it all again.
They had already lost so much. Survived so much. And now, they only had each other.
He wasn't ready. She knew that. But she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him with hospital bills, endless treatments, and false hope. That kind of burden would break him and she'd rather vanish than watch him fall under that weight.
Mariah's gaze drifted to the window, to the stars scattered across the night sky. She had destroyed the diagnosis report long ago stage four, terminal cancer. Inoperable. Unforgiving. Final.
She'd refused treatment not out of pride but for him. For Martin. That path would drain them both financially and emotionally. It was a hole he could never fill.
Instead, she had chosen this quiet, painful route. To disappear before the worst came. To spare him.
What had prompted her to say anything tonight was the fainting. It wasn't the first time but it was the worst. Her body was failing faster than she expected.
She didn't have much time left.
And the thought of leaving without saying goodbye without preparing him, even in some vague way was unbearable.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away.
Be strong, she whispered to herself. Just a little longer.
She remembered his poor attempt and a smile crept on her face. She fell asleep hoping tomorrow would be a better day.