Kendrick hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, the heaviness in his chest pushing him closer to his mother. "I didn't want you to worry," he said softly, his eyes earnest.
"You've already got so much on your plate. I'm okay, Mom. I swear. I just want to ease your burden. Besides, I've got big clients who love my paintings. They've been keeping me really busy these days."
Christy didn't say anything right away. Instead, she studied him in silence, her eyes gently searching his face as if trying to read the words he wasn't saying. Then she walked over, reached up, and placed a warm hand on his cheek.
"I'm your mother, Kendrick," she said quietly, her voice filled with something between pride and worry. "I'll always worry. Even when you tell me not to."
He smiled faintly, guilt threading its way through his heart. "I know. And I'm sorry. I'll do better."
