“What is it that you think you deserve, honey? If it isn’t this guy, what he has to offer, then what is it?”

“I have a great job that I love and work hard at. I care a lot about other people and I deserve someone who appreciates all of that.”

“This tattoo guy doesn’t?”

I pouted like a little kid. “No, he does, a lot actually. Those are some of his favorite qualities in me. He told me I deserve the best because of the lengths I go to for others.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean, ‘what else’?”

She gave me a hard look and leaned over so she could grab my face. She squished my pout together so hard I’m sure I looked like a duck.

“You are stunningly beautiful, you are desirable and vibrant, and you always have been. You deserve someone who worships you, who looks at you and knows no one is more perfect than you.”

Now there was no holding back the tears. My mom and I weren’t exactly ever on the same page about things, but hearing her say those words to me broke something free that had been lodged in my subconscious my entire life. I rubbed my hands roughly over my cheeks and blinked away the moisture clinging to my lashes.

“He tells me I’m perfect all the time.”

“Are you in love with him?”

I nodded sadly. “I don’t want to be, but I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Because it was meant to be.”

I choked on a laugh and picked up my coffee. “Who are you and what did you do with my mom?”

She reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You came home to try and pull me out of my funk. You never gave up on me when I was terrible to you and your sister. You came and got me out of jail and never stopped loving me. Even with all the turmoil your father dropped on us, you never stopped caring about him. I want what’s best for you, and while I would prefer a doctor to a tattoo artist, any man that can shake you up, get you out of that boring, secure little bubble you always live in, is welcome in my book. Now go get dressed and let’s go shopping like normal people do when their hearts are hurting.”

I didn’t want to go shopping, or go to the country club for lunch. I didn’t want to go to a wine tasting that night or to the tapas restaurant with my mom and all her single friends the next night. By the end of day three, I was ready to pull out my hair. I was bored, missed my sister and my job, and had learned way too much about my mom’s new sex life. Mostly, all I wanted was to get back to the mountains and, in all honesty, get back to Nash.

On the fourth day I broke down and sent him a text. All I could think to say was: I’m so sorry. We need to talk.

When he didn’t answer me back the rest of the day, I decided enough was enough. If I was the hurdle that I needed to get over in order to have him, then the only way to do it was just get over it. I was still scared, still worried about being enough, about being able to give back everything he seemed so willing to lay at my feet, but going home and confronting him, and the person he saw when he looked at me, was the first step. All people deserved love and kindness. Seeing that young girl take her own life drove that point home more clearly than anything else could have. I needed to take what Nash was showing me at face value. No one was ever going to love me better than he did.

I was only two hours into the twelve-hour return trip when I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize that came from a 303 area code. Figuring it was work or work related, I answered.

“Hello?”

“Saint.” It took me a second to recognize Royal’s voice. “Where are you?”

“Just outside of Phoenix headed home. Why? How did you get this number?”

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from now, but the faster you can get here the better. And I’m a cop, how do you think I got your number?”

She was talking fast and an uneasy shiver slid down my spine.

“What’s going on?”

She sighed. “You were a real bitch, you know that? I don’t typically tell people about my circumstances, about the deal with my mom and the stockbroker, but I thought since you were touchy about being judged, you would get it. That was really mean what you said to me.”

Hello, life lesson right in my face. I had practically called her a whore, told her she was no better than her mother. I didn’t really mean it, didn’t know her well enough to make that kind of judgment call. I had just been spouting off like a stupid idiot because I was hurt and mad. Any lingering remains of trying to use what Nash had said in the past against him turned to ash. I couldn’t blame him anymore when I was guilty of doing the exact same thing. Luckily, unlike I had been, Royal seemed willing to accept an apology.

“I know. I’m sorry. That was a hard scene to walk in on. I jumped to conclusions without listening to explanations.”

“Well, it did look bad. I made a bunch of extra keys and now half of Denver is on call to let me in my apartment should I lock myself out again, but anyway, you need to get your cute little butt back here. Phil took a drastic turn for the worse. The mouthy little blonde with the baby was getting a bunch of stuff for Nash since he hasn’t left Phil’s bedside since you left. It doesn’t look very good. You don’t want your man to have to go through that alone. He needs you.”

I think what I was supposed to take away from this entire nightmare was not to pay attention to what words were said no matter how ugly, or to what I was seeing no matter how bad it looked. I had to have faith in the people involved—myself included. Mistakes were going to be made; that didn’t mean I had to forsake my life and my happiness because of them, not when Nash had shown me time and time again he was worth working through the pain and confusion for.

“I won’t be back in Denver until late tonight.”

She made a noise in her throat. “I hope Nash’s dad lasts that long.”

I did, too. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“I told you I wanted us to be friends.”

“I think I’m finally ready to believe you. I’m a neurotic weirdo, though. I don’t know how great a friend that will make me.”

She laughed a little even though she still sounded kind of sad. “We all have things, Saint. Things we struggle with, things that make it hard for us to see ourselves how others view us. Sharing those things is the only way to get past them.”

I didn’t tell her that I had just recently figured that out. If I didn’t get back to Denver in time, that was just one more thing I was going to have to overcome. I would never forgive myself if Nash had to face Phil passing away without me. Sure, he had a multitude of friends, people that loved him unconditionally, to help him handle his grief, but like Royal said, he needed me. No one else would do, and that’s how I knew loving him back, giving him all he gave me wasn’t going to be a problem because I needed him and only him in the exact same way.

Royal was overly apologetic when I came back in the apartment. I waved her off and went to get dressed. Like I said, I knew this shit didn’t look good, but it kicked me in the balls that Saint wouldn’t take a breath, talk to me about it. She just automatically assumed the worst of the situation and of me, and that just sucked. I really did love her, wanted this to be a real thing, a thing I was going to have to hold on to while everything else in my life spiraled out of control. Her taking that away broke my heart, but more than anything, it made me choke on disappointment.

I got dressed, waited for the locksmith to come and let my neighbor back in her apartment—again—and headed back over to Phil’s. It was like his life was grains of sand in an hourglass and the sand was suddenly flowing much more rapidly, and I could see it. So on top of feeling like Saint had leveled me, I felt like Phil was leaving me hanging as well. I knew it wasn’t rational, but it was how I felt all the same.