“I mean, we haven’t talked at all for the last four days. There’s no way I’m going.”
“Why not?”
I snort out a derisive laugh. “Because all we’ve done is tear each other apart. Because I still have a little pride. Because I need to protect my heart.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Greer I know.”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you going to sit around, or are you going to fight for him?”
I blink at her. “What do you mean? He made a choice.” The choice not to trust me—trust us. The choice to take a job an airplane ride away.
Molly sighs. “Honey, nothing in life is ever firm. People make choices, and then they make new choices. You need to give him enough information to make the choice that’s best for both of you.”
“Enough information?”
My friend is the paramount of patience and sympathy. “You love him.”
I love him.
God, I really, really do.
“Yeah, Molly,” I whisper, wiping fresh tears off my face.
“So tell him.”
“After he already rejected me? That sounds like a recipe for more pain.”
“It’s a good thing he was upset about the kiss with Damien. It means your relationship really mattered to him.”
“It didn’t matter enough for him to stay.” Even as I say the words, though, I realize that just because things didn’t work out for me with the wrong guys in the past doesn’t mean that they won’t work out with the right guy. With Locke. He and I have too much shared history to let him walk away.
Locke of all people is the one who made me finally believe I deserve to be loved the way I want. But it’s not enough to just know that. I need to fight for it, too. Hell, if I could stand up to Damien, I can certainly fight for love.
“Ugh.” I groan and sink onto the bathroom floor. “You’re right.”
“Ha!” Molly slaps her hands together. “Go make your damn cranberry sauce again and bring a can along with it. Woo his family and give him the information that he needs and get him back. You don’t have to be perfect, Greer. Even donuts don’t have everything together, and donuts are awesome.”
Somehow her circular logic makes sense, even to me.
“Oh my god, Molly.” I laugh and wipe tears from my eyes. “Am I really doing this?”
My friend grins at the screen. “Yeah, love. You really, really are.”
28
Locke
“Locke! What are you doing here?” My mom greets me with surprise from the doorway of her home, a dusting of flour coating her cheek and her graying hair tied into a bun. “I wasn’t expecting you for another few hours.”
“I just came by to drop off presents for the kids.” I lift the grocery bags packed with toys for my niece and nephew and jiggle them for effect. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” My mom holds open the door and I step inside, brushing off the December chill and letting the warmth of the house sink into my bones. My mouth waters at the scent of ham and fresh-baked chocolate cake.
I set the bags of gifts on the kitchen table, and the memory of my last visit here burns bright behind my eyes. I haven’t talked to my mom since I stormed out of her kitchen, but suddenly all of that heartache seems so very small compared to my mess with Greer.
After all, I’ve been loved. By my mom and my dad and my sister and my aunt. Whether or not they did the right thing when they kept the truth from me, they meant well, and they’re not going anywhere. But if I don’t do something, I’m going to lose Greer for good.
My mom’s eyes drop to the bags on her kitchen table, and she sinks into a seat. “Does this mean you’re not coming tonight?” Behind her, measuring cups and food in various stages of preparation are strewn across the countertops, and the timer on the microwave runs a countdown for whatever’s in the oven.
“I can’t, Mom, even though I’d like to.” I pull up a chair next to hers, no longer trusting myself to stand. “Me and Greer,” I begin, and my voice shakes. “I made a horrible mistake.”
“Oh, honey.” My mom reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers. “What happened?”
Suddenly I am ten years old again and my mom’s still my best friend and my dad’s still alive and my parents are there to help make everything better. I tell her about San Francisco and about my fight with Greer, leaving out the fake relationship part of it. I tell her about how I need to win Greer back.
The last few days, I’ve been sitting with all of my decisions, and the bombshell about my dad keeps replaying in my mind. Hearing the truth made me furious and fractured, but my mom was right, too—just because my dad and I weren’t officially related on paper didn’t make our relationship any less real. It’s the conclusion I keep coming back to after all this time, and it’s just as true for me and Greer. It might have been a fake relationship, but it was real love. I know that all the way in my bones.
When I’m finished talking, my mom leans back in her chair and looks at me with so much pride on her face that the ache that’s been sitting on my chest like stones starts to lighten.
“You are your father’s son, and he’d be so proud of you,” she says.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the truth of it. “I messed up, Mom.”
“The point is you’re going to fix it. And you’re so strong, Locke. No matter what happens, you’re going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry that I got so mad,” I whisper.
“You had every right to.”
I nod because both things can be true.