“No way,” I gasped. I was grateful for Margot’s offer of humor because, god, was I ever tired of crying about what happened to me. Humor was a way to take myself back. I stood and fell into her arms. “All this shit talk and you’re a good hugger underneath it all.”
“Relax, I do hug my children,” she teased. “I’m not a total miser.”
“I thought maybe you outsourced hugs to Andrea.”
She laughed and squeezed me one more time. “I would also hug your boyfriend to make my wife jealous. She loves him.”
“Yeah, well, her and me both.”
She gave me a smug look. “Ooh, somebody dropped the L bomb, didn’t they?”
“Shut up.” I blushed and held back a smile.
“Happy for you, Vi. You deserve it.”
I sat with those words for a minute:you deserve it.
All this time, I’d been trying to make myself good enough for Colton, to become worthy of his love. I held myself back from him for years to try to protect him from what I couldn’t accept about myself. I exchanged years of pain and longing for the promise of a greater love down the road.
Maybe we could have had a healthy relationship without me staying away from him for so long. There’s really no way to know. But Layla asked when I’d feel ready for him, like I deserved him.
I deserved him all along, because everyone is worthy of love.
But I was fully ready for him now. I could give him everything, and not just trample on his open heart, his kindness. There was pain along the way. Doubt. Loneliness. Jealousy.
I didn’t deserve Colton because I was entitled to him. I didn’t deserve Colton because I earned him through some multi-step plan. I deserved Colton because I saw that it wasn’t just about me receiving unconditional love from him or taking what he so willingly offered. I was ready to give love. And my love was worth receiving.
The greater love, the thing I’d been working toward, was here, radiating from my chest in every color imaginable.
I fought tears in my voice, turning my back to Margot.
“Thank you. I do deserve it.”
“Dad?”
I hadn’t spoken to my parents since the end of the summer. Part of it was being busy, and knowing they were probably even busier. But since Colton and I were talking again, I was afraid to tell them what was going on. How much did he know? Had Maya told him about the rumors? I still hadn’t told Maya aboutthe assault, because there never was a good time for that sort of thing. So, why else would my dad call me out of the blue?
I sat on my couch like if I sat down too hard, the cushions would turn into an alligator and bite my butt.
“Hey,” he said, then cleared his throat. “How are you?”
“I’m . . . good. How are you?”
“Oh, alright. A little bird may have told me that you’re seeing Colton again.”
Colton. My dad called him by his name. Not “that hockey boy” or a disdainful “him.” Not only that, but he was cutting to the chase. This was the agenda for the call.
“Is that little bird’s name Maya?” I asked, and Dad chuckled.
“Well, I think maybe I’m the last to know. But I hear he’s being good to you.”
Okay, it had to be Maya. Who else would have spoken well of Colton to my dad? “He is,” I confirmed.
“And you’re happy with him?” he went on.
That I could answer easily. “Yeah. He makes me very happy.”
My dad’s voice was warm and genuine. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
