Chapter Fifty-Two #2
“Yes.” A sense of triumph invades my bloodstream like a drug. “So there you go. I didn’t botch the audition. In fact, I fucking nailed it. My training was superior. Congratulations.”
“I don’t believe this.” She clutches her chest. “You lied to me, and you’re mad about it?”
“Yep.”
She folds her arms again. Narrows her eyes. “This is all because of him, you know. Our relationship was just fine before you started hanging around with Everett McKean.”
“No, Mom. That’s the thing. It wasn’t.” I see now that any further discussion will be useless.
She’ll just keep me on this merry-go-round, trying to blame me or Everett or anyone but herself.
My mother is never going to be happy, and that isn’t my fault or my problem.
So I do the only thing I can to protect myself.
I turn around and walk away.
Halfway up the stairs, dragging my comforter behind me, I hear her bedroom door slam.
I curl up on my mattress again, but I don’t cry this time. Not because I don’t feel sad, because I do—mostly for the little girl I was. The one always seeking approval and affection she was never going to get. The one who deserved better than she got.
But that girl is grown now, and in her place is a woman who stood up for herself today. Who didn’t pretend to be fine when she wasn’t. Who used her voice to speak her truth.
I’m proud of myself. I wish Hugo had been here to see it.
And Everett.
Everett.
My chest aches when I think about the fight we had tonight. Pieces of our conversation drift through my mind.
I love you. You have to believe me.
I want to. I want to believe that what I have with Everett is the real thing. That he loves me truly. Wholly. Deeply. I want to believe I’m worthy of that love. I want to accept it. Cherish it. Return it. Let it grow and surround me.
The weeks we’ve spent together replay in my head like a movie montage. I’ve been happier and more myself with Everett than I’ve ever been with anyone. If it wasn’t for him and the way he loves me, I never would have had the strength to confront my mother tonight. I know we belong together.
Tell me I didn’t fuck this up.
I can’t tell him that. Because he did fuck this up, and I’m upset.
The space in the center of my chest clenches, either to hold the pieces of my broken heart together or to shield the most vulnerable part of me from taking another hit.
My whole life, Mom has made it clear that love and lies go hand in hand—that to have one means accepting the other.
Call out the lie, lose the love. I learned that lesson young, and I’ve never forgotten it. I’ve never been allowed to forget it.
But it isn’t like I can’t appreciate Everett’s reasons for not telling me the truth.
His lie wasn’t to hurt me—it was to protect Gabi.
They lived through something I can’t imagine, and even if they’re thriving now, their history has left its scars.
Everett will always be ultra-protective of his sister.
They’re close. They have each other’s backs.
Sometimes family does things to protect each other, even when they don’t agree with the decision.
I understand that. And I love how much he values family.
I love Gabi, too, so much that I don’t blame her for what she did or didn’t do.
I understand she was young and scared. And while I wish she would have been honest with me sooner, I don’t have it in my heart to hold it against her—not when my heart is already holding so much.
None of us is perfect. We all make mistakes.
But family forgives. Family shows up. Family has your back no matter what.
I’ve never had family like that.
You do now.
Did he know how much those three little words meant to me? How I’ve longed my entire life for that?
Of course he does.
I shut my eyes and imagine myself cutting the ropes that tether me to the fear and shame of my past. To the idea that I’m not lovable.
That I’m somehow incomplete because I have no idea who my father was.
That I need to win my mother’s approval and never will.
That I alone was responsible for the fire.
I let myself feel the full hurt of every lie I’ve ever believed about myself, and then one by one, I let them sink to the bottom of a deep lake in my mind.
It all stays in the muck like cinder blocks, while I float to the surface, unburdened and free.
I see myself moving back to Hart’s Landing, but not as the same girl I was when I left. I see myself building a life here—a beautiful life.
I have a career I’m passionate about.
I have good friends.
I have peace with myself and who I am.
I have Everett.
I have a family—one I chose, and one I’ll protect.
I have love.
My heart takes flight in my chest.
In the morning, I wake up early. After pulling on jeans and Everett’s John Deere sweatshirt, I start down the stairs, hoping to get out the door without talking to my mother.
No such luck.
“Mila?” she calls from the living room.
Caught, I curse silently and plod the rest of the way down the stairs. She’s seated on the couch with a cup of coffee. “Yes?”
She takes a sip. “Where are you going so early?”
“Out.”
One eyebrow lifts. “Are we going to discuss last night?”
“I’ve said everything I need to for now.”
“My feelings are very hurt, Mila.”
“I’m sorry.” I mean it. I don’t want to hurt her.
“I suppose you’re running to him now? To tell him what a terrible mother I am?”
“Actually, I don’t plan on talking about you at all.”
“Just remember, no one will ever love you the way I do.”
“God, Mom. You know what?” With my hand on the door handle, I look over my shoulder at her. “I really fucking hope not.”
For once, I make the dramatic exit.
As soon as I step out onto the porch, I freeze.
Everett’s truck is parked on the street, exactly where it was yesterday, and I can see him behind the wheel. I’m totally confused. Has he been there the whole time? Didn’t my mom say he left after I came inside?
I move slowly down the front walk and approach the truck on the passenger side. He’s reclined in the driver’s seat, arms folded across his chest. Hair a mess. Eyes closed.
Sound asleep.
A smile tugs at my lips. When I knock on the window, he jumps. Disoriented for a moment, he blinks a few times. Rolls his neck. Then he sees me. Our eyes lock through the glass, and my heart stops.
I try the handle—locked. He clicks the button, and I open the door, sliding into the passenger seat. Without a word, I throw my arms around him, and he pulls me hard against his chest. Kisses the side of my head.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Can you forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you. But wait.” I pull back. “Have you been out here all night?”
“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair, which only makes it stick up more.
“I did leave, at first. Because I wanted to give you space to breathe, like you asked for. I went home and cleaned up. But then I came back. Because I want to show you that I’m here for you.
That even though I fucked up, I won’t give up. ”
He takes my hand. “I love you. And whatever it takes, I want to be with you.”
I smile. “I love you too.”
“Thank God.” He weaves our fingers together. “Are we okay?”
“We’re okay. And I’ll make things okay with Gabi, too. We all need a little grace.”
“I hate that I let you down.” He kisses my fingers. “I won’t let it happen again.”
“I don’t think you should promise me that, Everett. We’re not perfect. We’re going to get angry and hurt and take things the wrong way and say shit we don’t mean. But we’ll work through it.”
“Yes. We will.”
“And, honestly, I think I needed the chance to stand up for myself. I’m grateful you gave it to me. It gave me the courage to confront my mother after you left.”
His jaw drops. “Did you? How did it go?”
I shrug. “No surprises. She is who she is. But I’m not who I was—not entirely—and that made the difference. So thank you for helping me believe in myself.”
He hugs me to him again. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me, too.”
“Where were you headed just now?”
“To find you and tell you I spent the entire night dreaming of our future in Hart’s Landing.”
“Yeah?” Releasing me, he sits back and gives me a smile that could melt a glacier. “You know I’m not rich.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m a farmer who drives a beat-up truck, doesn’t own a suit, and can’t really tell the difference between a Van Gogh and a Dickelangelo.”
I laugh. “Don’t care.”
“Someday I’ll inherit a house, but every year something else will go wrong with it.”
I grin. “Listen, I’m just happy you caught up. I’ve been waiting a decade for you to love me back.”
He laughs. “Now it makes sense, the way I always wondered.”
“And the way I never forgot. It’s like your soul recognizes its missing piece, even if your brain needs more time to understand.”
He kisses my hand again. “You’ve always been my missing piece, Freckles.”
My heart is too full to answer.
We hit the diner for breakfast, and we’re just finishing up when Everett looks at his phone. His brow furrows as he taps the screen.
“What is it?” I ask.
“A text from Gabi.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Hang on.” He scans the text on his screen. “Oh shit.”