Page 106 of Lovesick
“Yes?”
“In an effort to keep from breaking JJ’s heart, you decided to never give the two of you a chance to see what amazingness you could be. You left just as he was starting to do exactly what you wanted. Just as you started to feel something real.”
Her explanation, stated so clearly, froze me.
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. Do you see it?”
“I did it.” I looked at her in horror. “I did just what Mama would have done. I ran away and broke his heart.”
“When you fear something so much, Lizbeth, you end up creating it. Can you see that you’re already bringing about your own destruction this way?”
The sobering reality hit like a slap.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Mama did her best, imperfect as she was. Can you see it that way? Can you see her offering for what she meant it as? Desperate love. Wild love. Love she didn’t understand and hadneverexperienced. When Mama gave you romance, she gave you the only gift she had—hope for a better life. She knew her best wasn’t good enough, that you’d need a place to hide. That’s why she gave you storybook love. She wanted better for you. If you hold onto your anger against her”—Bethany pressed her forehead to mine—“it’s going to destroy you.”
“What if I destroy others? What if I do to the people I love exactly what she’s done to us? I could never forgive myself.”
“You won’t.”
Tears obscured my view of her bright eyes when I pulled away. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you, Lizbeth.” She tucked a piece of hair away from my face with a soulful, loving gaze. “You have advantages Mama never had, goodness Mama never had. You’re stronger than her. You’re willing to go through the dark times and come out the other side. She wasn’t. She didn’t have anyone. You do. Even if Mama did nothing else for us, she gave us each other, didn’t she?”
Bethany ran her hands through my hair with a warm, gentle smile. “Let her go, Lizbeth. Thank her for everything she gave you, then leave her in the past. Don’t let her break you from the grave the same way she broke herself in real life. Can you do that?”
I nodded, unable to form the words.
“Good. Because I know you can, too. And honestly?” She sighed, a weary hand rubbing her face. “Just these past few weeks with Shane have made me realize the burden Mama really did carry. Sometimes, I think it’s a miracle we’re alive.”
She glanced around one more time, then kissed my cheek and gave me one last hug. “Take your time here. You have lots of things to say goodbye to. Just remember that Ellie, Mav, Shane, and I are always home for you.”
With that, she disappeared. I sank to the floor, Mama’s paperwork still in my hand, and stared at the burned bookshelves. There was something oddly cathartic about the destruction. As I hiccuped and contemplated all those pages burning away, my thoughts turned decidedly less pessimistic.
When my thoughts turned to Mama, the darkness of her memory had ebbed slightly. In the midst of the wreckage, and with thoughts of JJ dancing in the back of my mind, I whispered, “Thank you, Mama. Thank you for giving me everything.”
Outside, the lonely wind whistled in response.
* * *
An hour of quiet contemplation later, I finally stood back up. My legs felt stiff and wobbly in the cold. Outside, the howl of the storm made my bones shudder. This was a blizzard, worse than the one weeks ago. My eyes burned from all the emotion, and my cheeks stung with tears.
The attic looked different, although nothing had changed. I couldn’t wait to get away. This wasn’t my home anymore.
Nothing waited for me here.
Despite my stiff limbs, I hurried down the spiral stairs and into Leslie’s truck. Snow fluttered everywhere, thick in the sky. It raced down my neck with an indecent tickle that set my teeth chattering. Cold air blasted into the interior of the cab as I cranked the heat all the way up. My thoughts were clear and crisp as a fresh day.
I wasnotMama, nor would I ever be.
So I’d do what she never did: the hard thing.
Seconds later, I crept out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Wind tossed the snow with careless violence. It slammed into the truck. Ice shaped the roads into harsh white ribbons that disappeared in the storm. For two seconds, my tires skidded down Main Street. A flash of fear—and the swift memory of my car slamming to the rocks, of myself seconds away from death—caught me by surprise.
I gripped the steering wheel, grinding it in my hands as the truck came out of the skid.
