Page 142 of Love Notes & Lifelines
Silence.
I pull the phone away to confirm we’re still connected, and a pit forms in my stomach.
“I know. I’ll be there soon.”
She hangs up, and so many emotions swirl in my mind. But it’s the possibility of losing Stella and the girls that keeps me focused on one step at a time. And right now, I need a sledgehammer.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
STELLA
“Are you sure you’re ready?”Tabby asks with puppy dog eyes. “I love Beck, but it’s okay if you need some time. I get the feeling you’ve been through hell and back in the last twenty-four hours.”
She’s not wrong, and I appreciate her kindness, but I’m ready to go home.
My chest aches and my mouth goes dry. For the first time in my life, I have a home to go to. One that’s filled with love and memories—both good and bad. It’s full of mistakes but also second chances, and it’s waiting for me with open arms.
Tabby gave me space all day, while also finding excuses to check on me from Leo’s apartment. But in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve cried. I’ve raged. I’ve felt sorry for myself. And I’ve decided to take control of my life, once and for all.
I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor. I’m not broken, I’m stained glass. I’m me, exactly as I am, and Becker Hayes loves me anyway.
Is getting married to a man I haven’t known very long a smart thing to do? Maybe not. But I love him.
Every thought that suffocated me last night had nothing to do with Beck. It’s because I didn’t trust myself. I thought I wasin love with Silas. I thought I knew what love was, and I was so very wrong.
In order for me to trust Beck, I have to trust myself first, and we’re both worth the risk.
What Beck and I have is more than love—it’s life, and I wasn’t living before I met him.
“Stella?”
I blink myself out of my reverie and press my palms to my heated cheeks. “Sorry. Yes, I’m sure. I belong with him, Tabs. Last night gutted me. It hurt more than I can say, but I didn’t give him a chance to explain either. Those photos looked real, even to me. If I hadn’t known that my hair hasn’t been that short since the fifth grade, I would have questioned them too.”
She nods with watery eyes.
“We both made a mistake, but I don’t think it changes us.” My insides roll over because what I really mean is Ihopeit doesn’t change us. “It doesn’t wipe away what we’re building.”
Fingers crossed.
Tabby nods excitedly with her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest—barely containing her golden retriever energy.
“And I miss the girls.” The reality of that statement tightens my throat. “I haven’t been gone long, but I don’t want them wondering where I am when they’ve already lost so much. It’s also not fair to leave Beck with my mom—she’s my responsibility.”
“She’s both of your responsibility, Stella. Beck sat with her for hours last night. He loves you and everything you love.”
I hadn’t been expecting that, and a new ray of hope surrounds my heart.
“Let’s get you home.” She barrels into me with a hug so tight I can’t breathe. When she releases me, I see a lifetime of stories swirling in her gaze.
“Thank you, Tabby. Do you think someday you’ll tell me about…” I pause, taking in her space one more time. “About all of this?”
She laughs, then tucks her hair behind her ears with both hands. I know that trick well—she’s shielding herself. “I’m sure Leo told you the gist of us. He can’t help himself. I swear he blabs to punish himself, but that’s not who I am. I forgave him a long time ago. But forgiving and forgetting are two very different things, and sometimes forgetting is harder than forgiving.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. Her pain could so easily be my own.
“And sometimes forgiveness is more for yourself than it is for anyone else. Holding on to hate or the things that harm us only hurts ourselves, and we owe it to ourselves to do better than that. So I’m trying. I’ll never apologize for how long it takes me, or the bumps I hit along the way. It’s my journey and no one can dictate how, when, or where I find healing.”
I follow her out the door while I chew on her words. Forgiving is not the same as forgetting. She’s right—about all of it.
