young, feeling forced into it. But unlike me marrying my ex so he could be hired as pastor of a rather influential church, she’d gotten married because she was pregnant. Her husband started drinking, grew abusive. After he struck their son, she knew it was time to leave. Unfortunately, he discovered her plan. Out of his mind with rage and too much alcohol flowing through his bloodstream, he confronted Hazel, shot her and their two young sons, aged five and eighteen months, before turning the gun on himself.
Only Hazel survived, albeit barely.
Which is why I still struggle to understand how she was able to put herself out there again after what she went through.
“Weren’t you scared?” I ask in a timid voice, feeling unusually vulnerable. “When you started dating Diego? Especially after what you went through, what you lost? How were you able to take a risk again? Trust again?”
“Because if I didn’t, he’d win. I survived. I needed to live for Evan and Benjamin.” She offers a sad smile at the mention of her sons. “And for me.
“I’m not saying that putting myself out there, putting my heart out there, wasn’t scary. It was. It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever done after everything I lost. There were times I felt like you do. That I should lock my heart behind an iron fortress so I don’t have to experience that excruciating pain again. But if I did that, I never would have met Diego. Never would have experienced his love. And let me tell you, Lo. His love is everything to me.”
Peace washes over her as she stares into the distance. “My mama used to always say that life is like a game of chess. Sometimes you’re the queen. Sometimes the rook. Sometimes a pawn. But regardless of who you are, the strategy is the same. It’s about taking risks and hoping to reap a huge reward. If you don’t take a risk, you may miss out on finding that happiness people search for their entire lives. The happiness that might be right in front of you. The happiness you deserve. Just…” She trails off, collecting her thoughts.
Then she returns her blazing eyes back to mine, her expression brightening. “Just keep your heart open to the possibility instead of dictating what will never be because of some misplaced fear about what the future holds. No one can know what lies ahead of us. The only thing we can do is make the most of today. Live the best life we can.”
I stare ahead, studying the vintage artwork I found at a flea market that hangs on the wall over the television. Can I really do what Hazel suggests? Can I really keep my heart open after everything?
“You have a decision to make, Lo,” she continues when I don’t immediately say anything. “Do you keep letting your past control you? Do you keep letting him win?”
I tear my eyes back to hers, about to argue I’m not letting him win, but she cuts me off.
“Or do you finally take back this last part of your life?” She pinches her lips together, a knowing look crossing her expression. “If you ask me, the answer’s pretty obvious.”
Chapter Eight
Weston
“You’re late,” Julia sings as I fly through the door and up the stairs, not even stopping by the kitchen to see her or Imogene. I can’t. Not when Londyn’s mere minutes away from walking through that same door herself.
Thanks to a few meetings that ran over, I got stuck in the office later than usual. Couple that with the already heavy Atlanta traffic that was even worse tonight, as if karma knew I was desperate to get home, and it’s a wonder I made it here before Londyn at all.
“I know,” I call back. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
“I’ve never known you to be ready in less than twenty.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring Julia’s jab as I step onto the second-floor landing and make my way down the photo-lined corridor and into the master bedroom. I leave a trail of clothes from the king-sized bed and into the bathroom, then take what’s probably the world’s quickest shower.
Once I wash the sticky Atlanta humidity from my body, I step out and towel off. Wiping the condensation from the expansive mirror above the dual vanity, I tilt my head back, surveying the scruff growing along my face and chin. I consider shaving, something I once did every day. Since Brooklyn left me and