“So?”
“So that’s who I am in the real world. The girl whose mom thinks she should give her cheating ex another chance. Who cares more about what people think than whether I’m actually happy.”
Jax takes my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “You are not that girl. You’re the woman who walked away. Who chose herself. Who drove into a snowstorm alone because she needed space to figure out who she is without him. That takes fucking courage, Sloane.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m running away?”
“Because standing up for yourself always feels scary at first. But you’re not running away. You’re running toward something. Toward the life you actually want.”
I want to believe him. Want to believe that I’m being brave instead of cowardly. But the doubt is still there, worming its way through my chest.
“What if I don’t know what I want?” I whisper.
“Then you take time to figure it out. No pressure. No judgment.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “But, Sloane? Don’t let your mom’s opinion or anyone else’s make you doubt yourself. You know what happened. You know what you felt. Trust that.”
I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not making me feel crazy. For just ... being here.”
“Always,” he says simply.
We sit like that for a long moment, the Monopoly game forgotten, the fire crackling beside us. And slowly, the tightness in my chest eases. Maybe I don’t have all the answers. Maybe I’m still confused, scared, and uncertain about everything. But I know one thing for certain, whatever I decide about my future, it’s going to be my choice.
Not Chett’s. Not my mom’s. Mine.
And that has to be enough for now.
11
JAX
Iwant to hunt down Sloane’s mother and have a very firm conversation about what support means. Sitting here, I watch Sloane process that phone call and see doubt creep back into her eyes. It takes everything in me not to grab her phone and tell her mother exactly what I think about suggesting she go back to a man who cheated on her. But that’s not my place. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know she’s not.
She’s staring at the Monopoly board like it holds the answers to all her problems. “I don’t know. Am I being crazy? Am I overreacting?”
“No.” My voice comes out harder than I intend. “Absolutely not. Your ex cheated. That’s not something you work through in couples therapy. That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s a betrayal.”
“But nine years?—”
I hate that her mother is now making her second-guess her decision. “Even if it was ninety years.” I reach out and tilt her chin up, making her look at me. “The amount of time invested doesn’t mean you have to stay in something that makes youunhappy. And I know what it’s like to feel obligated to something just because you’ve put time into it. My dad wanted me to be a cop like him. I spent two years in the police academy trying to make him happy before I finally admitted I wanted to work in the mountains, not fight crime.”
“How did he take it?”
“Terribly. Didn’t talk to me for ages.” I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “But eventually he came around. He realized I was good at what I do. That I’m happy. And now? He’s my biggest supporter.”
“So, you’re saying my mom will come around?”
“I’m saying your mom loves you and wants what’s best for you. She’s just confused right now about what that is. But you’re not. You know what you need to do.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, her dark eyes searching mine. “How are you so sure about everything?”
“I’m not sure about everything.” I pull her into my lap, and she comes willingly, tucking herself against my chest. “But I’m sure about this. About you deserving better. About you being strong enough to choose yourself.”
“What about this?” she whispers. “Are you sure about that?”
