The Uber Ride Home (And the Lock Screen Conversation I Wasn’t Ready For)

 

So there we were —

me and Mum in the back of an Uber,

me wheezing like a broken accordion,

Mum watching me like I might stop breathing again at any second.

 

The car was warm, quiet,

and for the first time in hours I wasn’t being poked, scanned, or asked to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10 (which is always a solid 12).

 

I thought I’d get home in peace.

 

HAHA.

Bless me.

 

Because halfway down the road, Mum turned to me gently and said:

 

“So… I noticed your lock screen.”

 

My stomach dropped. Oh god Ryan i wasn't ready for this

Then she added:

 

“Who’s that?

Because I know it’s not that Stefan — I’ve finally met him.”

 

I just stared at her.

Still breathless.

Still fragile.

Still feeling like my bones were vibrating from pain.

 

And all I could manage was:

 

“I’ll tell you one day, Mum.

But I’m not ready to.”

 

It was the truth.

I’m not ready to unwrap that mess yet.

Not ready to talk about him.

Not ready to hear what she thinks.

Not ready to explain the feelings, the heartbreak, the chaos, the connection, the feeling stupid

 

Then I added, quietly:

 

“I do need to delete the picture…

but my heart isn’t ready.”

 

She looked at me for a second —

really looked —

and then gently put her hand on my knee.

 

“Oh…

that bad?”

 

I shook my head a little.

 

“Not bad, Mum.

Just… complicated.

And I can’t go into detail. Not yet ”

 

She nodded slowly, squeezing my knee.

 

“Okay.

When you’re ready,

I’m here.

I won’t judge.”

 

I smiled, but inside my head I was thinking:

 

“Yeah, Mum.

You will.”

 

Not because she’s cruel.

Not because she doesn’t love me.

But because mums are mums —

they judge because they care,

because they want the best for us,

because they want us safe,

because they don’t want anyone hurting their child.

 

And honestly?

I don’t think she’s ready for that story either.

 

So I just stared out the Uber window,

feeling the cold air on the glass

and the ache settling back into my bones,

and thought:

 

One day…

but not today.