CHAPTER 68: [68] REAL ENOUGH

Calypso darted out of the living room to get the door, leaving Xavier alone with Elaine. His mother tilted her head toward the bedroom.

"Let’s talk in private," she said, her voice leaving no room for negotiation.

Xavier followed her into the bedroom, watching as she closed the door with a soft click that somehow sounded as final as a prison cell locking.

She said nothing at first, just walked around the space. Her red eyes took in everything—the queen-sized bed with its rumpled comforter, the stack of textbooks on the nightstand, the two coffee mugs side by side on the dresser.

Xavier stood near the door, unsure what to do with his hands.

Elaine paused by the foot of the bed, bending down to pick something up from the floor. When she straightened, she was holding a piece of black lace between her thumb and forefinger.

Calypso’s lingerie.

She raised an eyebrow, dangling the garment in the air between them.

"We don’t sleep in the same bed," Xavier said quickly.

Elaine looked pointedly at the single bed, then back at him. "I never thought to ask."

She set the lingerie on top of the dresser, smoothing it flat with her palm in a gesture that seemed oddly maternal. Then she turned to face him fully, her red eyes softening for the first time since he’d walked through the door.

Elaine held out her arms. "Come here."

Xavier stared at her, caught off guard by the sudden shift. She was waiting for a hug from her loving son—the son she believed she’d raised, sacrificed for, worried about. The son who didn’t actually exist.

He hesitated. This woman wasn’t really his mother. She was a construct, a character in a story written just for him. And yet...

And yet his body remembered her. His implanted memories knew the scent of her shampoo, the strength in her thin arms, the way her chin would rest perfectly on top of his head when he was younger. Before he grew taller than her.

Xavier let go of the doorknob and crossed the room. When he stepped into her embrace, Elaine’s arms wrapped around him with surprising strength. She smelled like hospital antiseptic and coffee, with an undertone of something floral. His body relaxed into the hug without his permission, responding to a lifetime of muscle memory that had been written into him.

"You’ve lost weight," she murmured against his shoulder. "Are you eating enough?"

"Yes," Xavier said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "The academy food is good."

Elaine pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she examined his face. "You look tired. Are you sleeping?"

"Enough."

"Which means not enough." She sighed, releasing him to sit on the edge of the bed. She patted the space beside her. "Sit. Talk to me."

Xavier sat, keeping a careful distance between them. The mattress dipped under their combined weight, and he had to brace one hand against the comforter to keep from sliding toward her.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Everything you’ve been avoiding telling me." Elaine crossed one leg over the other, her scrub pants rustling with the movement. "Starting with who Calypso really is."

Xavier looked down at his hands. "She’s..." he began, then stopped. "It’s complicated."

"I gathered that much from her stumbling explanations earlier." Elaine’s voice held no judgment, just patience. "She mentioned something about your father’s side of the family, which we both know is nonsense since that man cut all ties with us when you were three."

Xavier never really knew his father. Only that he as a great hunter but a lowsy father.

"I don’t care about the lies, Xavier," Elaine continued. "I care about why you felt you needed to lie to me."

"I didn’t want you to worry," he said. "Things happened fast, and I... I didn’t know how to explain it."

"Try now," Elaine said. "I’m here. I’m listening."

Xavier ran a hand through his hair, buying time. "Calypso is... someone who needed help. She didn’t have anywhere to go, and I offered her a place to stay."

"And the cousin story?"

"Seemed easier than explaining that I’m living with a woman I barely know." At least that part wasn’t a complete lie.

Elaine studied him, her expression unreadable. "Are you sleeping with her?"

"No," Xavier said firmly. That, at least, was technically true. They hadn’t slept together, though not for lack of tension between them.

"But you want to."

Xavier opened his mouth to deny it, then closed it again.

Elaine nodded, taking his silence as confirmation. "And where does she sleep, if not in your bed?"

"We take turns," Xavier said. "One of us gets the bed, one gets the couch."

"How chivalrous." Elaine’s tone made it clear she didn’t believe him. "And how long is this arrangement supposed to last?"

"For the foreseeable future."

"I see." Elaine stood up, smoothing down her scrubs. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful you’re not living alone in a strange city."

She walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out at the lights of Metro City. Her silhouette against the night skyline looked small and tired.

"You know," she said without turning around, "when you were little, you used to tell me everything. Every scraped knee, every playground argument, every silly dream. Somewhere along the way, that stopped."

Xavier remained silent, unsure how to respond to memories of a childhood he’d never actually had.

"I used to think it was just you growing up," Elaine continued. "But now I wonder if I did something to lose your trust."

"You didn’t," Xavier stood up and moved to stand beside her at the window. "This isn’t about trust."

Elaine turned to look up at him. "Then what is it about?"

Xavier stared out at the city, at the crystal towers glowing against the night sky.

"I’m figuring things out," he said finally. "Who I am, what I want. It’s not easy to explain."

"Try me." Elaine’s voice was soft but insistent. "I’m smarter than you give me credit for."

Xavier looked down at her, this woman who believed with all her heart that she was his mother. Who had memories of raising him, of loving him, of sacrificing for him. Who had taken days off work and traveled here because she was worried about him.

In that moment, he made a decision. This might not be his real mother—he’d never had one—but she was real to herself. Her feelings were real. And right now, she was worried about him.

"Calypso and I met through... unusual circumstances," he said carefully. "We have a connection that’s hard to explain. We’re not romantically involved, but we’re not just roommates either. We’re... bound to each other, in a way."

Elaine’s eyebrows rose. "That sounds serious."

"It is." Xavier turned to face her fully. "I can’t tell you everything, not yet. But I promise I’m not in danger. I’m not doing anything illegal. I’m just trying to navigate a complicated situation."

"With a beautiful woman who leaves her sexy underwear on your bedroom floor," Elaine noted dryly.

"She’s not great at picking up after herself."

Elaine studied him for a long moment, then nodded once, as if coming to a decision. "Alright. I won’t push. For now."

She reached up and straightened the collar of his shirt. "But I’m staying the weekend," she added. "And I’ll be watching. If I think you’re in over your head, we’ll be having a very different conversation."

"Fair enough."

Elaine took a step towards the door. "Now come on, I am starving and I hate cold food."