Chapter 28 #2
If God hadn’t uprooted me, hadn’t allowed my heart to be broken wide open, and sent me running to a town I’d never planned on loving, would I have slowed down long enough to listen to Him? If none of it had happened, I never would have met Zane, and yet God’s disruption led me right to him.
Mom swallows, eyes lingering on mine, when she finally says, “I didn’t know you felt…lost like that.”
“I’ve never felt more sure of who I am than I do right now.
” I take a breath before adding, “And being closer to Dad and Ashton matters to me too. Three months ago, I never would’ve imagined Dad and me having the relationship we have now.
I don’t want to walk away from that, not when we’re finally finding our way back to each other. ”
Mom doesn’t speak right away. Her gaze drops to our hands as she takes a moment to sit with everything I’ve said. Her fingers trace my butterfly tattoo on my wrist, and when she finally looks up at me, I see a shift there.
“So, wanting to move to Covewood is much more than just because of some guy. I guess I didn’t allow myself to see any of that,” she admits quietly. “I only saw Covewood taking you away from me too.”
The defensiveness I’ve been carrying all evening loosens enough for me to finally see the fear beneath her words. It no longer feels like she’s trying to control my future. She’s only afraid of losing her place in it.
She lets out an uneven breath, shaking her head as her gaze drifts past me.
“All I could think about was how everything had happened with your dad. And then again with Ashton.” Her lips press together for a second. “Each time, it felt like I was losing someone I loved.”
I’ve been so focused on my own hurt that I never stopped to consider what those goodbyes cost her.
She lets go of me and places her hands beside her on the couch.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of the cushion, gripping it lightly before she lets go.
Understanding washes over me, that her reaction was out of fear instead of anger.
“Having you close by brought me a sense of comfort. I didn’t realize I was holding onto that so tightly.” She lets out a slow breath. “And when you said you wanted to move here, it felt like that was slipping away too.”
Emotion rises unexpectedly in my throat, because the truth is, she isn’t the only one who’s afraid. The idea of leaving my mom behind scares me too.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say gently. “I’m not choosing one life over another. I’m trying to build something that includes all of it.”
Her eyes search mine. “You really believe you can make it work?”
“I do,” I say without any hesitation. “I’m not giving up my degree or my future. I’m choosing where I want to build it. And who I want to build it with. That’s all.”
She studies me for another moment before nodding in understanding.
“Okay,” she says.
Finally, for the first time all summer, I feel like we’re on the same page. Neither of us speaks for a moment, until Mom lets out a small yawn and leans back into the couch, her shoulders lowering as some of the tension leaves her.
“So…” she says, glancing over at me, “where does that leave us?”
I tuck a leg beneath me, turning toward her. “I think that depends. How long are you planning on staying?”
She chuckles, shaking her head. “I didn’t think that far ahead. I packed a bag, got in the car, and drove until I was in Covewood. My only plan was to find you.”
My gaze drifts to the white bandage wrapped around her hand. I’d been so caught up in everything she’d come here to say that I hadn’t really let myself think about why she’d had the time to come at all. I reach across the couch and gently take her hand in mine, careful not to bump the bandage.
“Mom…”
She looks down at our hands before meeting my eyes.
“Does it hurt?”
She gives a one-shoulder shrug as she tries to make light of it. “It’ll heal.”
I trace my thumb lightly over the edge of the bandage. “You’ve worked yourself to exhaustion my entire life with overtime, double shifts, and missing sleep. You keep giving every piece of yourself away just to keep everyone else afloat.”
“I wanted you and Ashton to have everything you needed.”
“We know that, and we’re both thankful for it. But I’ve been thinking that maybe it can be my turn to take care of you, at least after I get settled here.”
Her chin lifts as tears fill her eyes before she blinks them away and reassembles herself into the mother who always has it together. But I caught it anyway, a glimpse of how much she needed to hear what I said.
“Oh, honey.” Her voice comes out softer than usual, stripped of its normal certainty, and she reaches out to push a strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t owe me that.”
“But I’d like to do that for you. I don’t want that factory job to be the thing that finally breaks you. Besides…”
She raises an eyebrow as she waits for me to continue.
“With me being in Covewood soon, moving here with me might be something you could start thinking about. It’d be nice to have all of my family nearby.”
“I don’t know,” she says quietly after a moment. “I guess we could talk about it when the time comes.”
I don’t push her for more than that. Some doors don’t need to be forced open, they just need the option of being unlocked.
A while later, after Mom takes her bag into the spare room and closes the door behind her, the cabin falls quiet again. I sit on the edge of the couch for a moment, my hands resting loosely in my lap, staring at nothing in particular as everything from tonight weighs on my heart.
My gaze drifts to the window, toward the dark outline of Zane’s cabin. I see no movement or light shifting behind the windows. I reach for my phone on the coffee table, my fingers hesitate for half a second before I pick it up.
I pull up his name, my thumb hovering over the screen as I try to figure out what to say.
Me
Hey. I’m really sorry about everything.
Can we talk?
The message is sent before I can second-guess it. I stare at the screen, watching the small “delivered” appear beneath it. Seconds shift into minutes as I try to convince myself that he might be busy or asleep. But then his name pops up, and my breath stills as I open the message.
Zane
There’s nothing you need to apologize for.
But I think we both could use some space tonight.
I let the message sit there for a moment, staring at the words, reading them again but slower this time, like if I do, they might change. But they don’t.
I lower the phone, staring at the floor as his words echo back through my mind.
He wants some space, after everything we promised each other?
I swallow, blinking down at the screen again before locking it, the soft click sounding louder than it should.
I shake my head dumbfoundedly, not believing that this is actually happening.
I snatch my phone back up and type another message.
Me
I don’t need space. I need you.
You told me tonight that I’m the only woman you wanted in the entire world. If that’s true, then you should have asked me to stay.
Minutes tick by, his message showing that he’s read it but is choosing not to respond, until finally he starts typing back.
I’m on the edge of the couch, chewing on my lip as I wait for what he has to say.
It feels silly, texting him when he’s only next door.
I get the urge to rush over there right when his text message comes through.
Zane
I meant every word I said to you.
That’s exactly why I can’t ask you to stay.
I freeze as my eyes stay locked on the screen, tracing over each word. A slow breath slips from me as my grip on the phone loosens enough that I have to adjust it in my hand. If Zane meant everything he said, then why does it feel like he’s already pulling away?
I press my lips together, trying to steady the wave of emotions crashing into me.
I know we can fix this. It isn’t something broken beyond repair.
No, it’s fear, bad timing, and everything crashing into us at once.
Repairing the damage would require Zane to meet me in the middle, but right now, he isn’t even stepping toward me.
The realization sinks deeper the longer I sit with it. I lower my phone into my lap, staring down at it as his words echo back.
I can’t ask you to stay. Not that he wouldn’t. As if wanting me here isn’t enough to risk his deepest fears. As if caring about me comes with a line he’s not willing to cross.
If space is what he needs, then maybe I should give it to him. I inhale slowly, lifting my phone again, my thumb already moving as I pull up my email. The screen glows softly in the dim room as I scroll, my mind catching up to what I’m doing only when I see it.
Westbridge University Orientation.
I didn’t plan on going because I honestly didn’t need to, but now, staring at the date, at the details laid out so plainly in front of me, it feels like something else entirely.
It’s a chance to give Zane exactly what he asked for, and maybe a way for me to protect what’s left of my heart in the process.
I open the link, my eyes scanning over information I barely register. I take the time to fill out the form, pressing send, and the confirmation loads, settling into place before I can second-guess it. And just like that, it’s done.
I let my hand fall back into my lap, the phone resting loosely in my grasp as I stare ahead, my thoughts feeling much heavier now. Tomorrow, I’ll tell Mom we’re heading back early, and I’ll go to orientation. I’ll give Zane the space he asked for, and maybe it will help.