MARVEL: BUYING GODHOOD

Gwen pov

When Mom suddenly said, “I think… we need to have this conversation,” I couldn’t understand what she meant.

Looking at her with a confused expression, I asked, “About what?”

Her answer was the one question I had been dreading without even realizing it.

“About your relationship with Chris.”

Before I could say anything, she continued.

“He’s become comfortable around us surprisingly quickly, but I’m more concerned about you. After hearing what those men intended to do to you… after seeing how you’ve kept your distance from boys ever since… how did you become so comfortable around him?”

For a moment, I simply stared at her.

I knew she wasn’t wrong.

Ever since that day, I had kept my distance from every boy.

I never let anyone get close.

Even talking to most of them made me uncomfortable.

But hearing Mom say it so directly felt like she was attacking me, forcing me to confront something I had spent years trying to ignore.

Before I could stop myself, I smiled and said, “The same could be said about you, Mom.”

That wasn’t the reaction she had expected, but it also wasn’t the one I expected from her.

Instead of becoming flustered or denying it, she simply smiled.

“I suppose it could. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

My mind immediately started racing.

Why wasn’t she bothered?

Why didn’t she deny it?

Before I could question her or argue back, she looked straight into my eyes and asked the one question I never wanted to hear.

“Do you like him?”

My thoughts completely froze.

Suddenly, every memory I had of Chris came rushing back.

At first, he was only the person who had saved Mom and me.

Even then, I couldn’t stop wondering if he was really different from those men.

Maybe he had only helped us because he wanted something in return.

Maybe he was just better at hiding it.

After that night, he disappeared, and I found myself wanting to see him again.

I wanted to thank him properly, but I didn’t even know if I would ever get the chance.

That same night, I met his mother.

The woman I remembered was gentle and kind.

But after everything Mom had told me today, I couldn’t help wondering if that memory was even real anymore.

Had my mind changed it over the years just to protect itself?

Or had she really been different whenever Chris wasn’t around?

Then everything changed.

Mom told me Chris would be living with us.

I still remembered the first moment I saw him walking through the front door.

He looked…

handsome.

Then he made that comment about my eyes.

For a second, I thought he might be just like every other guy.

But before I could even become uncomfortable, he stopped himself, realized what he had said, and changed the subject.

It was almost like he knew he had crossed a line and corrected himself without anyone needing to tell him.

After that, the more I got to know him, the harder it became to find anything wrong with him.

Every time I thought I had finally found one of his flaws, somehow it became something I liked instead.

The way he didn’t just shut me out but suddenly started flirting to divert the conversation, the way he sometimes said the strangest things…

instead of pushing me away, they only made me want to know him better.

Just remembering those moments made my face feel warm.

My heart started beating faster, and before my thoughts could wander any further, I forced myself to stop and took a deep breath.

“…Would it be a bad idea if I did?” I asked quietly.

Mom slowly shook her head.

“Don’t answer my question with another question. Just answer me honestly.”

I don’t know why, but hearing that irritated me.

Maybe I really was going through some rebellious phase.

Maybe I just didn’t like feeling cornered.

Either way, I lowered my head and answered in a voice so quiet I could barely hear myself.

“…Yes.”

I had wanted to say it confidently.

Instead, it came out as nothing more than a whisper.

Mom let out a slow breath before quietly saying, “Then… I think it’s a bad idea.”

The words hurt far more than I expected.

For a moment, I almost demanded to know why, but I somehow managed to stop myself before raising my voice.

Then another thought entered my mind.

After everything that had happened today…

after the way she talked about Chris…

after she didn’t even seem bothered when I accused her earlier…

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.

“Is it because… you want a chance with him?”

The moment I said it, I regretted it.

Mom simply stared at me.

The silence between us felt suffocating.

I wanted to take the words back, but it was already too late.

Finally, she spoke, her voice firm enough to make me look away.

“Gwen. How could you even think something like that? It’s not like that.”

Shame washed over me.

I couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes anymore.

Then she continued.

“No,” she said firmly.

“The problem isn’t me.”

“The real problem is your ideals.”

I frowned, unable to understand what she meant.

“My… ideals?” For a moment, I thought she was about to tell me Chris had some kind of terminal illness or some terrible secret that would make a relationship between us impossible.

Instead, she was talking about my ideals.

I looked at her in confusion.

“What ideals? And why would that be a problem?”

Mom let out a quiet sigh before answering.

“Because, Gwen, for you, everything is either black or white. You’re just like your father. Neither of you could ever look the other way, even if refusing to do so ended up hurting you.”

The moment she compared me to Dad like that, something inside me snapped.

The way she said it almost sounded like she hated that part of him, and I couldn’t understand why.

Weren’t those the very values she had always admired?

“So what?” I shot back, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Should I become like everyone else? Should I only do what’s good for me and ignore everything else because it’s convenient? Should I throw away my principles just to satisfy my own selfishness?”

Mom shook her head.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” I demanded.

She met my eyes calmly.

“I’m saying you can’t even look the other way when doing so could protect the people you love.”

I frowned.

“If someone I love does something wrong, then I should help them see the right path, not cover for them.” The answer came without hesitation because I had never believed anything else.

Covering up someone’s mistakes wasn’t helping them.

It was only allowing them to keep making them.

Mom looked at me as though I had completely missed what she was trying to say.

That expression only made me angrier.

“So you’re saying Dad was wrong?” I asked, my voice rising despite trying to control it.

“These ideals are the only reason we got justice for him! We may have been saved because of Chris, but it was Father’s honesty, his goodwill, and the people whose lives he touched that helped us get justice in the end.”

For the first time since this conversation began, I saw genuine anger flash across Mom’s face.

“No,” she said firmly.

“It wasn’t because of that.”

The words came out so quickly that they almost sounded instinctive.

Then she suddenly stopped, as if she had realized she had said too much.

Her lips parted slightly before closing again, and for just a moment, uncertainty flashed across her face.

It only lasted a second, but I noticed it.

She had been about to say something else.

Something she didn’t want me to know.

She was hiding something.