get through when Krystal got pregnant. I was completely blasted by the time she woke up the next morning and she knew we could never make that relationship work. We were never gonna be okay together. But she gave me an ultimatum. She told me that, if I wanted a relationship with my daughter, I needed to get my shit together. And you know what I did?”
My gaze dropped to my hands. “I know what you did.”
“Right. I went to rehab and I got myself cleaned up. It was fuckin' hard, it still is! But guess what, buttercup? Life is hard. We gotta work at the things that are worth having 'cause otherwise, we'd never appreciate them.”
Goose was a big lumberjack of a man, but he had the heart of a teddy bear and the soul of a lion. He was fierce and soft, kind and hard-working, and if there was ever a guy to admire, it was him. He had taken himself one notch away from rock bottom and climbed his way to a healthy, enviable relationship with his ex-wife and daughter. And I knew it hadn't been easy to earn his way back into the family. But that was Goose and we weren't talking about him.
“Things are just a little different for me,” I muttered, tapping the tips of my fingers together. “And she and I both have issues.”
“Yeah, you might have to work harder, but if you love her that much, then I think she's worth fighting for. So, make up your mind to let go of the stuff holding you back, turn shit around, and prove it.”
Goose concluded the conversation with a slap of his hand against my knee. “All right, I gotta get to bed. Gotta wake up early and sign for some deliveries. You can hang as long as you want, but just lock up before you leave tomorrow, okay?”
“You got it,” I replied with a nod.
“Awesome. 'Night, man.”
“'Night.” Then, as he left the room, I stopped him. “Hey, Goose?”
“'Sup?”
I tipped my chin and said, “Thanks. You know, for bein' a good friend. I'll pay for the wall.” I gestured toward the dent where the ashtray had made its impact.
His beard-framed lips lifted in a smile. “Don't worry about it. But, hey, remember what I said. Let shit go. You deserve to be happy, too.”
Goose turned off the kitchen light and headed to bed, leaving me in the soft glow of a single lamp in the living room. Alone again, I studied the perfect circle indented into the wall. It was a minor incident, not a big deal in the long run, but that spot on the wall spoke volumes.
Dr. Travetti had said it before but now I saw it, too, clear as the streetlights from Goose's living room window. I was damaged. Ever since that one life altering moment, when my mother ignored my tears and shut the door on her responsibilities as a parent. I'd been on a path of destruction ever since, and I had known it all along. Truthfully, I'd been aware of my toxicity for a long time.
But there was one thing I had overlooked.
Damaged does not equate unworthy.
I was hurt and rough around the edges. But I also wasn't doomed to be a prisoner of the past if I didn't want to be, and I was so tired of being locked up.
I stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen. I found the garbage can and pulled the letter from my pocket. With one final look at my mother's handwriting, I dropped it in and went to bed.
Tomorrow was a new day, I would face the morning as a free man, with determination and strength. Because Andy was absolutely worth fighting for. And with that knowledge, I knew that I was nothing like my mother, and thank God for that.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ANDREA
“Thank you so much for having me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it,” I said, desperately trying not to lay it on too thick.
Dressed in a floor-length, gauzy, blue dress, Tracey smiled graciously and outstretched her arms to me. “Don't thank me, Andrea. I'm just glad you're finally ready to accept the gift that's been given to you.”
I walked into her embrace and welcomed the soul-soothing hug. She smelled of flowers and earth, like springtime in the rain. It was the scent of a new beginning, and I thought, how fitting.
It had taken weeks of soul-searching, therapy, and NA meetings to finally decide what