No. I’m really not. I’m angry and sad. And so damn disappointed, but I can’t say any of those things. I don’t know why I can’t. I wish I could. I wish I could beg her to be my mom, instead of me having to take care of her. But I don’t want to hurt her. “I’m fine.”

“Sit down, okay?” She gestures to the chair across from her, and I take it without argument. She reaches out for my hand, and I give it to her. “I’m so sorry, Camden.”

Everything in me screams to make her feel better. I don’t know why. I’m so mad at her, it hurts, but I don’t want her to be upset. “It’s okay. I’m sure you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She shakes her head slowly. “No. I didn’t. Not at all. But this is my problem, not yours.”

I want to scream. To tell her that her problems are my problems. They’ve always been. But I just stay stoic.

“A couple of months ago, I ran into an old friend.” Her eyes catch mine, and I see her sadness before she continues. “I know we don’t talk about your dad much, but we were so young when I got pregnant. We were high-school sweethearts.”

I nod because I know that part of the story. He was the star football player, and she was the cheerleader who got knocked up.

“When I got pregnant, our parents demanded we get married. So we did. He didn’t want babies. He had a full scholarship to college but had to get a job instead to support us. He was so angry. So bitter.”

“What does this have to do with the new baby?” I ask rudely, but my head is pounding, and I feel like I could be sick to my stomach at any moment. I know this part of the story.

“Your dad and I had this friend, Phillip. He was a great friend. Super smart. Sweet. Always there. When I got pregnant, he told me he was in love with me. That he would marry me and raise you.”

“What?” This is not part of the story I know.

“I wanted to do it. I loved him too,” she sobs, and I stare at her in horror. “But I couldn’t. It wasn’t his baby, and it wasn’t his responsibility. I cared about your dad.”

“But you loved this Phillip?”

She nods, swiping at tears that keep falling. “I did. But I told him I didn’t. That he should go. So he did. He went on to college and then started some big company in Dallas. He does really well.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” I’m trying to follow, but my brain is mush.