Nash (Marked Men #4)(82)



I huffed in aggravation and threw myself back in the seat with my arms across my chest.

“Why are you taking his side, Mom?”

“Because I love you and I realize now that I may have had a hand in some of the issues you are struggling with that are keeping you from being truly happy. I was hard on you, had a hard time with how quiet you were, and nitpicked about your looks and lack of social life when you were younger because I thought I was helping. I thought if you acted more like Faith, looked a little more polished, you would have an easier time of things. Kids can be cruel and I didn’t want that for you. I should’ve appreciated the wonderful child I had, not tried to make you into something else.”

“Oh my God, Mom.”

She took her sunglasses off and looked me dead in the eye. “Listen, honey, I loved your dad my entire life. He was everything to me, and yes, I went off my rocker when that went away. I thought my life was going to be over when he left me, but I wouldn’t change any of it now that I’ve had some space to reflect. At one point our love was the most beautiful thing in the world to me; it brought you and your sister into the world, and it gave me something to look forward to each and every day. It might have gone badly at the end, might have hurt me more than I thought possible when it went away, but I wouldn’t trade a single moment of the best parts of it. I would never trade in experiencing that hurt for the family that our love created, Saint.”

I felt tears pressing in my eyes and had to blink them back before I could answer her.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive Dad for what he did?”

She murmured something and tilted her head to look at me. “For walking away from our family, for hurting you girls … no, I won’t. What I can do now is recognize that we are all very much human and capable of making bad choices without thinking of the long-term repercussions. Saint, you had to come get me out of jail because I tried to brain a woman with a bottle of maple syrup. We all make mistakes, some worse than others.”

“I don’t want to hurt like this because of someone else’s mistakes, Mom.”

I was talking about more than Nash and I think on a level that only a mother and a woman hurt by a man she loved could understand. She understood what I was saying without words.

“Saint, hurting is how you know it’s real. If he didn’t matter, if he was just some guy, even back then it wouldn’t have lasted with you the way it has. You can’t run from feeling things, even if some of those things are awful, because love opens you up to experiencing emotions you haven’t ever felt before.”

“He’s the only one who has ever made me feel anything like this.” He was also the only one that made me feel desire, hope, and gut-wrenching sorrow while I watched him grapple with the truth about his dad and Phil’s subsequent illness.

“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.

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