Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maxinne
I’ve always been told not to do something permanently stupid just because I’m temporarily upset.
It’s the kind of advice that sounds obvious until you’re standing in the wreckage of your own emotions, realizing a mantra doesn’t do much good once the damage is already done.
Even though Zane’s decision to rush off wasn’t something permanent, the expression on his face lingers.
I stay rooted in place, my hands hovering uselessly at my sides.
My thoughts tangle over each other, trying to make sense of how we went from being curled up on his couch…
to this. Didn’t I explain to Zane that I’m not anything like Lily.
I would never break his heart, especially in the way that she did.
I thought he knew me well enough, but he still chose to be cautious of me.
It stings, knowing that, after everything, he can still pull away like that.
A hint of understanding enters my thoughts, because I can see how my mom’s words could push Zane into being more guarded. I turn slowly, finding Mom standing a few steps away, watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“You didn’t have to say all of that in front of him,” I tell her, shaking my head in disapproval. “You knew what you were doing.”
Her brows draw together. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help, Mom.” I let out a short breath and glance back to Zane’s cabin before forcing my attention on her. “You didn’t even take a moment to hear me out.”
Silence stretches between us, and her face clouds with uneasiness.
“I’m sorry, Maxinne,” her voice catches before she clears her throat.
I draw in a breath and let it out slowly, wrapping my arms loosely around myself as I glance toward the cabin behind her.
“Let’s go inside,” I demand, my voice steadier now, even if everything inside me still feels raw. “If we’re going to keep talking about this, I don’t want to do it out here.”
She hesitates, like she’s not sure if she’s being invited in or called out.
After a second, she nods and follows behind me.
I lead her into the cabin and hold the door open.
As she passes, my gaze catches on the bandage near her hairline, and the sight of it still rattles me, no matter how upset I am, because I hate knowing she’s hurt.
The door clicks shut behind us, sealing us inside with everything that’s still waiting to be said.
Mom’s gaze drifts slowly around the cabin, taking in the worn furniture, the stack of books beside the couch, the little pieces of the life I’ve been building here.
Covewood has always been the place she refuses to understand.
And look at her now; she’s standing in the middle of it.
A knot tightens in my stomach. It feels like two worlds that were never meant to collide have suddenly been forced together, and I’m standing somewhere between them, desperately hoping neither one falls apart.
“So this is Ashton’s place?” she asks, curiosity slipping in where tension once was.
“Yup,” I answer, already moving past her toward the kitchen.
“It’s nice,” she adds, glancing around again. “It feels like him.”
She keeps her tone gentle, like she’s trying to find familiar ground between us, but I don’t take the bait. Instead, I busy myself with the kettle, filling it with filtered water and setting it on the stove. The small routine movements give my hands something to do and focus on.
“Has Ashton always kept it like this?” she continues, her voice drifting from the living room. “Or is this your influence?”
I let out a quiet breath, not turning to see what she’s referring to, and set two mugs on the counter. “Mom. Could you just sit for a minute?” I glance over my shoulder, meeting her eyes.
She nods slowly and moves toward the couch, lowering herself onto the edge of it.
I turn back to the stove, watching the kettle even though it hasn’t started to heat yet, while my mind wanders back to Zane.
He’s only next door, close enough that I could cross the yard in seconds and try to fix whatever just happened—if I even know how to.
I close my eyes and lean against the counter as the look on his face flashes into my mind.
The hesitation, the doubt, and then how his heart slipped into protection mode.
I press my fingertips against the edge of the counter, grounding myself in the here and now.
I need to face one issue at a time, and right now, I need to figure out whatever this is happening between my mom and me.
My eyes snap open at the sound of the kettle’s soft whistle. I carefully pour the water over the tea bags once it’s ready, the steam curling around me as I carry the mugs into the living room. I hand one to Mom before sitting down beside her, the cushion dipping under my weight.
I draw in a slow breath and let it out, gathering whatever is left of my composure.
“Okay.” I look at her. “Let’s talk.”
She swirls the tea bag in her mug before setting it down and turns so she’s fully facing me. I mirror her without thinking, my knee angling toward hers.
“I’m sorry for showing up here unannounced. I needed to understand what’s so special about Covewood that it’s worth risking everything for?”
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
“Risking everything?” I repeat. “You make it sound like I’m throwing my life away.”
“Maxinne—”
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s exactly what you’ve been doing since you got here. Acting like I’m making some reckless decision only because you don’t like it.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know you’re worried. But do you have any idea how exhausting it is to finally feel certain about something, only to have your mom think that you’ve lost your mind?”
“Now, wait a second. I don’t think—”
“Because I found myself here,” I fire back, emotion breaking through my words. “For the first time in years, I actually know who I am and what I want.”
She watches me carefully this time, without interrupting, which I’m thankful for. I push forward before I lose my nerve, because I desperately need to get this out. For her to finally understand why I’ve made this decision.
“Before I came here, I was constantly trying to be a version of myself that Derek needed me to be. Everyone around me always had an opinion about what my life should look like.” I pause for a second and swallow hard, because my next words are hard to admit to her.
“Somewhere along the way, I stopped asking what I wanted out of life.”
A silence stretches for a moment before I continue.
“I don’t think I realized how lost I’d become until I came here.
I started hiking again and working in the greenhouse with Dad.
I’ve spent time with people who actually like me without expecting me to perform for them.
I started making decisions because they mattered to me, not because they made someone else happy.
I no longer feel like I’m pretending all the time. ”
The determination in my mom’s face slowly gives way, her shoulders lowering almost imperceptibly as she takes in my words. “I genuinely came here to try to help. I didn’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”
“I’m not making the same mistake,” I say immediately. “And Zane’s not—” I stop myself, pressing my lips together as I try to rein it in. “He isn’t anything like Derek.”
“Then tell me how he’s different,” she demands. “Help me to understand.”
I stare into the tea swirling inside my mug, watching the ripples settle as my fingers tighten around the warm ceramic. I draw in a slow breath.
“Zane doesn’t expect anything from me,” I start slowly. “He doesn’t need me to change or give anything up for him. I can be myself when I’m with him.”
My fingers trace along the rim of the mug as I gather the rest of my thoughts.
“When things with Derek fell apart, I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do next. The only thing I could hold onto was going back to school and finishing what I started. That was it. That was my whole plan.”
I glance up at her. She’s watching me intently, her brows pulled together in concentration. I appreciate her willingness to hear me out.
“I didn’t realize that I had no idea of who I was anymore. And Zane didn’t try to fix it. He was only there for me, as a friend—one I hadn’t realized I needed at the time. He listened, gave me space when I needed it, and let me figure things out without pushing me in any direction.”
I pause as Mom reaches over and takes my hand into hers. She squeezes my fingers, her thumb brushing over my knuckles the way she used to when I was a kid.
“Being here gave me room to breathe again. To think clearly and exist without feeling like I was constantly trying to keep up with everyone else’s expectations.”
I press my lips together, blinking past the sting building behind my eyes as that truth sinks in. A faint, almost disbelieving smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Beside me, Mom shifts on the couch, the cushions dipping as her hand gives me a slight squeeze, silently encouraging me to continue.
“And while I was here, I rededicated myself to Jesus.”
Her breath catches as the lines in her forehead ease. Her gaze dances over my face, like she’s trying to piece together when I changed without her noticing.
“It feels as if God Himself brought me here to Covewood.” I meet her eyes again, hoping that she’ll hear what I’m trying to explain to her. “And he used Zane to help lead my heart back to Him.”
God disrupted my life. I’d always thought that disruption meant punishment, as if something had gone wrong, but I can see it now as being mercy.
Maybe it was God stepping in when I couldn’t see past my own stubbornness and was too busy choosing the safest option, which was whatever looked better on paper.