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I saw it through the eyes of a little boy who just wanted his mom. My pops was happy, loving her exactly as she was. He never needed her to be more than she was, nor did he want anything more from her. He had everything he wanted.

But me? I just wanted my fucking mom.

I never had her, though, not really.

I was the thing she never wanted, the accident she kept to make my pops happy. She loved me…she simply loved dancing more. And that wasn't fair to either of us.

If I'm not careful, Callie is going to end up in the same damn position my mom was in. It'll be her making decisions and sacrifices she doesn't want to make, just to make me happy. Watching history repeat itself…being the reason she tries to tear herself in two, trying to be two different people and live two different lives… How the fuck am I supposed to ask her to do that?

I can't. I fucking can't.

She deserves better than that.

I think maybe I do, too.

So yeah, I'm still trying to work shit out and figure out where it fits. But I'm beginning to realize that it doesn't fit here, or that I don't. Not anymore. I fit with her, chasing her while she chases her dreams. It's not a sacrifice. Funny how quickly it stops looking like one when the alternative feels unbearable.

"You and Flint going to be around next week?" I ask Walker.

He stares at me for a minute, like he knows exactly where this is going. "You're moving on, aren't you?"

I jerk my chin in a nod, not lying to him. "That's the plan. I'm needed somewhere else right now."

"Fuck." He sighs heavily. "Yeah, we'll be around."

"I'll find you."

"You do that, brother." He slaps me on the back, shaking his head. "I'll make sure Flint's available, too."

"Thanks." I nod toward the offices. "I need to go deal with this bullshit."

"You need help?"

"Nah, I can handle Swanson."

"Just don't kill him on ranch property. Hudson will be pissed."

"When isn't Hudson pissed?" I ask, already striding toward the offices.

Walker just laughs because he knows I'm right. Hudson can be a crabby bastard. He's good people, though. I'll miss the hell out of this place. But it's not my place anymore. I knew that before I even landed in Callie's bed the other night. Wherever she is…that's my place now. She's my place.

No, that's not a sacrifice. It's the easiest decision I think I've ever made.

Cody's standing beside his truck outside the main office, his hands in the pockets of his suit. The sun glints off the expensive aviator glasses pushed up on top of his head, creating a tiny prism of light in his hair. He looks like shit.

I don't feel sorry for him.

I hope guilt's eating the prick alive for what he did.

His lips purse as soon as he sees me heading in his direction. He pushes away from the truck, meeting me halfway. "Why were you at Callie's the other night?"

"Why is that your fucking business?"

"So you're in love with her," he mutters, not like he's asking, but more like he's confirming his own suspicions. Not that I give a shit what he thinks. His opinion stopped mattering the minute he fucked her over. "I had a feeling when I saw the way you were looking at her."

"That's not your business. Matter of fact, nothing about her is your business anymore, Swanson."

"I know, okay?" He grimaces. "I fucking know. But that doesn't mean I don't give a shit. I…fucking hell. I care about her."