Best kept secret | Spencer Reid

I can't do this anymore

S P E N C E R ' S   P O V

I hate lying to Averie.

Well, technically, I didn't lie.

Just maybe bent the truth a little bit.

I am going to Vegas to visit my mom, but not to talk to her doctors about new medication they want to put her on.

My mom has something I finally think I need from her.

My flight left early this morning, a flight which I caught with only two minutes to spare. Note to self - don't let Averie try to convince me that showering with her will save time.

It doesn't.

But do I still fall for it every single time? Yes.

After that, I wrapped her up like a burrito in the comforter, spending an extra five minutes kissing her lips before I left for the airport.

She said she was going to spend today at the apartment, sorting through all her things and maybe swing by her place to pack up the last of her stuff that hasn't already naturally found their way to my apartment.

The second my flight to Vegas landed, I hopped into a rental car, the only destination being the Bennington Sanitarium.

I pass security, peaking my head through my mom's bedroom door. She's sitting in her chair facing the window, scribbling in her journal. I tap my knuckles against the wood, and she turns.

"Spencer!" She stands from her seat, smiling as she makes her way over to me.

I melt into her embrace, breathing in the familiar warm scent. "Hi, mom."

"I didn't know you were visiting," She pulls back, brows creasing. "I didn't forget, did I?"

"No, mom." I shake my head. "You didn't know, I wanted to surprise you."

"This is a nice surprise," She pinches my cheeks, subtly flicking her eyes over my shoulder.

"She's not with me," I laugh, already knowing she's looking for Averie.

My mom loves Averie more than she loves me, and I'm not joking. They have their weekly phone calls to check in on each other which last anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours every time. And when Averie passes me the phone, I get to talk to my mom for five minutes, ten if I'm lucky before she asks me to put Averie back on.

"I suppose you'll do," She muses, guiding me over the the couch.

I take a seat, placing my elbows on my knees when I lean forward. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay," She straightens in her chair, placing her hands to rest on her legs.

And that's when I see it.

I reach forward, taking her right hand in mine when I graze my thumb over the ring on her forth finger, admiring the way the Opal stone still shines after all these years.

My eyes lift to her's, "Do you remember what you told me about this ring when I was younger?"

"Of course," She responds immediately, holding her hand out in front of her face. "I had it made with your birthstone when you were born." Her head peaks out from behind her hand, "I didn't have any family heirloom's, so I wanted to start one for you." She smiles warmly, fiddling with the gold band, "I wanted to wear it so that one day, you could have something to pass on to the girl you were going to marry."

My mom's memory isn't the best at times, but that's one story she's always remembered. She always told me growing up that it wasn't actually her ring and I didn't get it then, but I do now. It's sentimental, meaningful and perfect.