He takes my hand as he sits on the edge of the bed. “She’s alive, Raven. She’s here, and she’s trying to connect with you. I’d give anything to have my mom here.” He drops a gentle kiss on my knuckles as he continues, “You have a second chance. Don’t waste it.”

His mother. He lost her at such a young age. At least I didn’t know what I was missing; I never had that mother-daughter bond. He had years with her before she was taken from him.

“What was she like?”

“Mom?” He smiles wistfully. “She was beautiful. The kindest, most caring woman you’d ever meet. I don’t know what she saw in Chopper.” He chuckles then trails his index finger down my cheek and under my chin. “She would have loved you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now, promise me.”

“Fine. I promise.”

“Good.”

He walks to the corner of the room where the bag Chrissy brought me is sitting. After rummaging through it, he comes back with a hairbrush. I reach for it but instead of handing it to me, he proceeds to brush my hair.

“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the real Gage?”

“Get used to it, doll. I’m going to be doing stuff like this until you can do it yourself.”

The day we met comes creeping back into my mind. Me falling as I climbed off his bike, and him picking me up and carrying me to the door. He’d said basically the same thing. Even then, he was looking out for me, taking care of me. I was such a bitch to him back then. I’m glad he didn’t take no for an answer.

“There. As gorgeous as ever.”

He presses his lips to my forehead and I take a deep breath, not only to get a whiff of his scent but to calm my nerves. She’ll be here any minute now. What do I do…say? What on Earth could she have to say to me after all this time? I start chewing on my thumbnail anxiously. I wonder what she looks like. Daddy never talked about her. It was Lonnie who overheard a conversation between Daddy and his partner then happily relayed the story to me. When I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it. He just asked me where I heard it and then told me to never ask about her again. It seems strange to hear now that he’d been in contact with her, sending her pictures and updates. It just doesn’t add up.

There’s a knock on the door and when Gage opens it, Mr. Santini steps in. Oh, God. She’s here. My breathing becomes rapid and my heart begins to beat a crazy rhythm. Gage comes back to me, taking my hand in his.

“Are you ready?” Santini inquires.

“No.” I look to Gage then back to him and nod. “Let’s get this over with.”

Gage’s fingers tighten around mine as Santini opens the door. I watch the doorway, holding my breath, waiting for her to appear. A woman steps into the space apprehensively. She gasps at the sight of me then quickly hides whatever emotion it evoked—surprise, disappointment? Maybe it was pity. I am in a hospital bed, after all. I take in every detail – brunette, hair in a fancy side chignon, nice figure. She’s beautiful...elegant, from her preppy clothes to her diamond earrings. This is my mother?

She does the same to me but while my gaze is evaluative, hers is filled with wonderment. She steps inside and gives me a nervous smile.

“Raven,” Santini says. “This is Laurelyn Marchand.” He waves her forward and smiles at me. “Laurelyn, this is Raven.”

I watch her move closer, curiosity taking hold of me. Who is this woman? Why is she here? After all this time, what does she want? She looks briefly at Gage and then back to me.

“Hello, Raven.”

Her voice is just like the rest of her – beautiful. I stare into her eyes and see a mirror image of my own. Those are my eyes. I have her eyes. It’s her. It’s her. My...mother.

I break the fuck down.

She reaches for me and I shrink from her touch, leaning in to Gage. He wraps his arms around me, holding me as I sob uncontrollably. I can’t do this. I don’t know why I thought I could, especially today.

“I got you, doll.”

I bury my face in his chest, unable to stop the flow of tears. All my life, this woman was nothing but an idea. Now she’s here, flesh and blood, standing before me. I thought I’d be angry, that I’d tell her to fuck off. Instead, I’m flooded with unwanted emotions – hurt, fear, uncertainty. I always told myself Daddy was more than enough, that I didn’t need her, but I did. I needed my mother, and she was never there. What if she does it again? She can decide I’m not what she expected and disappear just as suddenly as she appeared. Then what? I’ll be left in the same situation, only knowing she wasn’t forced to leave me this time. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that. I couldn’t.

I let out my frustrations the only way I can right now – by crying a river. Hell, an entire ocean. Gage just holds me, rocking me gently. The solidity of his presence calms me. He’s the only certainty in my life, the one person I can count on. If this woman, Laurelyn Marchand, decides she wants to run off again, I know I have him.

I try to pull myself together, wiping at my tears with the backs of my hands. Gage hands me his bandana and I use that instead. When I look back to her, Laurelyn, she’s doing the same, only with a dainty hanky. Why the hell is she crying? I watch her and wait for her to say or do something. I’m definitely not going to be the one to break the ice.

“You’re even more beautiful than your pictures,” she chokes out.

I resist the urge to break down again because I can’t show any more weakness than I already have. I have to make her see I’ve managed without her so far and I’ll be just fine when she leaves again. She clears her throat and reaches into her giant purse, pulling out a photo album. Taking a tentative step forward, she offers it to me. I take it, keeping my eyes on her as I place it on my lap. When I open it, I see it’s actually a scrapbook. The first page has my full name and date of birth in decorative letters. The next has various baby pictures. I flip through the book, seeing pictures from every major ‘first’ from my childhood – first time crawling, first step, first word, first day of school, first tooth I lost. Then the pictures become less frequent.

“Your father sent me a picture of you on your birthday every year.”

So that’s why he always insisted I get dressed up for a birthday picture. The last one is from my seventeenth birthday. I snap the book shut. What’s the point of treasuring pictures when she could have had the real thing?

“Why?” I ask as I stare into her eyes.

“I couldn’t be with you –”

“Why are you here?” I cut her off impatiently.

Gage squeezes my shoulder. Probably a gentle reminder that I promised to give her a chance. Her bottom lip trembles and tears pool in her eyes once more. I steel myself against her waterworks. I can’t let them affect me.

“I never wanted to give you up,” she sobs.

“Then why did you? How could you?”

“I was young. I thought I had no other choice. My parents brainwashed me into thinking I was doing the right thing.”

“Did it feel right?”

“No,” she admits. “I felt horrible. There wasn’t a day that went by and I didn’t think of you. I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment your father took you from my arms and walked out of the hospital.”

“So, what? You come here and give me some sob story and we’re supposed to kiss and make up?”

“Raven,” Gage says sternly next to me.

I roll my eyes. I have a stranger trying to act like my mother and a boyfriend trying to scold me like a father. Laurelyn gives him a curious stare and he extends his hand to her.

“Gage Hunter.”

She takes his hand gingerly. Stuck-up bitch.

“Mr. Hunter. You are...?” She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“He’s my boyfriend,” I snap before he can answer. He clears his throat awkwardly, and pulls his hand away. She gives him a weak smile then turns back to me. If she’s going to judge him, she can turn around and leave right now.