“I’ve made my decision. Besides, it’s too late. The event starts in five hours.”
Mom raises an eyebrow. “If he’s not worth the risk, why were you inseparable for months?”
“I—” My mouth gapes.
“If he’s not worth fighting for, why were you locked in your room for days, heartbroken?”
I snap my mouth shut.
Mom slides the plate off the shelf and walks through the server door. “This is my place. This is the life I built for us, but this isn’t your end game.” She walks to the center of the dining room and places the plates with the patrons who ordered. I stand, put in my place, as she walks back to me. “This is not the strong girl I raised. I know your entire life changed that day in the Humvee, sweetheart. But this isn’t part of it.”
“It’s complicated,” I mutter. Even I know that’s a cop-out.
“It’s as simple or as complicated as you make it, my girl.”
She disappears into the kitchen and I’m left staring at the swinging door, wishing I’d made a different choice.
The old grandfather clock in the foyer chimes, a two-dong call.
Five hours to go.
The same amount of time it takes to drive from here to Edmonton.
Right into the heart of the PBR final.
I clutch the apron strings behind my back, closing my eyes briefly. Tugging them undone, I rip the half apron off and toss it onto the nearest table.
Fuck it.
