“It’s like I told that girl,” Crystal continues. “I know something about manipulative men, so be careful about thinking your husband is all that you want him to be.”
I meet Dean’s dark gaze. I feel the tension going through him, his urge to rush forward, to move between us, to shield me. He takes a step, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he stops.
I shift my gaze from Dean to Crystal. A wellspring of strength rises in me. I needed my mother once, back when I was uncertain and scared.
I don’t need her anymore.
“Dean is my world, Crystal. He helped me get back the life I lost. You will never make me doubt him.”
As I look at her, I realize why she thought she could come between me and my husband, why she tried to convince me to leave him and go with her again, why she thought I could forget all that happened.
She doesn’t know anything about love.
Not like me. Not like Dean.
I put my hand on my stomach again. I know, I know, that another kind of love awaits me and my husband… a love that will be both exhilarating and frightening, rich beyond measure. A love that will both encompass us and extend beyond us.
Neither Dean nor I have ever experienced a love like that from anyone except each other. Only together did we create this—an island of warmth and light, a haven of devotion, a place where we are both always safe and unreservedly loved.
I feel my mother studying me, assessing me.
“Putting all your trust in one man is stupid, Liv,” she says. “And I never wanted you to be a coward.”
“I’ve never been a coward,” I tell her. “That’s the reason I left you. Besides, you always said you’d have had such a better life if it weren’t for me. But you made your own choices. You hit the road running and never looked back. And you took me with you.”
“I had to,” she replies curtly. “Your father was a lying, cheating bastard. My mother was a self-centered bitch who wouldn’t help her own daughter. I had to leave. You think I had a choice?”
“I think we always have a choice. That’s why I left you, because I wanted to make my own choices. I didn’t want to live like that anymore.”
“And you ended up living a repressed life with Stella before you had to drop out of college, right?”
“No. I ended up married to a man who showed me exactly what it feels like to be loved.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Liv. You never even knew how lucky you were. You never appreciated anything I did for you.”
“Because you never did anything for me,” I retort. A barbed-wire flashback threatens. I rip it apart, crush it to dust. “You didn’t even protect me when perverts tried to mess with me. Instead you said it was my fault.”
“I never—”
“Yes, you did.” Old anger boils in my chest. I feel Dean’s simultaneous flash of rage, but still he doesn’t move forward. I fix my gaze on my mother.
“You even accused me of leading North on because you were jealous of our friendship,” I remind her. “You blamed me for everything, Crystal. Maybe if you hadn’t, you’d have learned that you could have had a different life. One that you really wanted.”
A heavy, strained silence falls. My mother stares at me. For the first time ever, I see the fatigue in her eyes, the lines edging her mouth.
“You were the coward, Crystal,” I say. “Not me. I started a new life on my own.”
“You didn’t start anything,” she replies, her voice tight. “I’m the one who got us away from your father. I’m the one who saved us both.”
“You didn’t save me. I saved myself.”
“All you did was run away.”
“No.” I shake my head, knowing the truth to my very bones. “It’s not running away if you’re running toward something.”
And always, no matter what happened, I’ve always run in the right direction—to Aunt Stella’s, college, Twelve Oaks, North, my future, Dean.
As I look at my mother, I realize that she’s the one who has always run away. Because she has never had anything or anyone to run toward.
“Crystal, I’ve learned so much,” I tell her, and for the first time ever I truly hope that my mother will one day find the ground beneath her feet, and the peace that has eluded her for so long. “And I promise you, putting down roots doesn’t mean you’re trapped or stifled or even… ordinary. It just means that you’ve finally figured out where home is.”
For what seems like forever, we look at each other. I see her eyes that are shaped like mine, her hair that is as long and straight as mine. I remember the picture North took of us as Crystal and I sat beside a campfire together and smiled.
“Good luck,” I finally say.
She nods, her gaze still on me.
“Well.” She takes a step back toward the door. “I guess it was impressive, the way you stepped in front of that Hamilton bastard yesterday. Maybe you didn’t lose that backbone after all.”
“Maybe in some ways, I got it from you,” I admit.