“Okay,” I say carefully, not sure where he’s going with this.
“But I wouldn’t change it,” he says. “Not the outcome, because our family is together again. And not being here for you either. I’d choose that every time.”
Something in my chest gives way. I pull him into a hug. “Thanks, bro,” I say gruffly.
If our eyes are a little wet, neither of us comments on it.
***
That night, I can’t stop thinking about all my flaws.
I let myself sit in self-loathing for a minute before I can feel it stirring within me. That same familiar ringing I felt years ago when faced with the consequences of my anger zings through me.
I want to change. I have to believe I can change, that anyone can better themselves, that selfishness is not inevitable. If even the timeless, ancient caves beneath us can evolve and change over millennia, then I have to do my part to evolve too.
Before I can stop myself, I’m dialing the phone.
“Mom? Yeah. I need to talk to someone.”
Thirty Two
Sierra
I watch as Jules LaSalle steps out of Seth’s SUV.
Seth didn’t question why I would need his mother’s phone number when I asked for it. I’m surprised that Jules agreed to meet with me, even insisting that she drive out to Sedona to make it happen.
More surprising to me is that I decided I need to do this. I keep playing everything that happened over and over again, trying to find my way out of heartbreak, but I keep dropping back to the beginning again. And this is one route I never tried in Sagebrush, and I can feel its unexplored path pressing on my mind. It won’t get me Logan back, but maybe it can give me some peace. And I’ve always had so little peace.
Now I’m so nervous I’ve slurped my whole soda down without realizing it. The ice cubes at the bottom of the glass clink together pathetically. I move on to molesting a handful of sugar packets.
While it appears Seth drove Jules, he stays put. Jules alone comes into the restaurant.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” I say.
“Of course.” Jules turns to the waitress. “I’ll take a coffee. Cream and sugar. Thanks.”
She removes her purse from her shoulder and places her hands flat on the table. Every movement feels deliberate, and even though my first instinct is to look anywhere but at her, I find myself trapped in her steady, intense gaze.
“How are you doing, Sierra?” she asks with such compassion that my eyes immediately fill with tears. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, nodding. “Logan’s very much the same.”
“It’s for the best. We keep hurting each other,” I say softly. “I’ve always been so bad for him, even now.”
“Oh, sweetie. You two are just the same—always way too hard on yourselves.” Jules shakes her head.
“I’m really not,” I say, my voice all stuffy. I take a deep cleansing breath. “I want to apologize for what I said.”
She tilts her head, not understanding.
I suppress my groan. I deserve this. She’s right to make me repeat my shameful words to her. “That day. When Dawson came to pick me up to take my statement. I called you a nosy, interfering bitch.” I wince. “I asked if you had so little going on with your life besides being a mom that you needed to pretend to be mine too.”
The waitress appears with Jules’s coffee, and Jules takes her time preparing it to her liking.
“Kids really know how to punch hard at your weaknesses, don’t they?” she says finally. “Sierra, honey. I forgive you.”
“But…” It can’t be this easy.
“Oh, honey, I was a guidance counselor. It’d be its own full-time job being upset over what each scared, cornered kid has ever said to me.”
