adapt, and grow into something even more spectacular than you thought. I think it’s a blessing in disguise that you didn’t get that job. This way, you can carve out your future right here, where your talents will make the most difference.”
My eyes lower to my feet on the pedals, my mother’s words sinking in, despite my reluctance to accept them.
“Or do you think New York is the only place you can do some good in the world?”
“I didn’t say that,” I grumble.
“No, you didn’t, but your refusal to stay says as much. Look at your father’s situation, baby. How many men and women, right here in Asheville, have been condemned for a crime they haven’t committed, just because of their poor circumstances? You want to be the force of change? Then start by cleaning up the mess in your own backyard. Asheville needs you, Stone. Just as much as I do,” she insists passionately, her eyes filled with love and admiration for the hopes of what I can accomplish in the future.
My throat starts to clog with emotion as I lean in to hug my mother. She’s a fragile woman whose hidden strength and belief in me have never wavered, even when fighting her own demons and battles.
“I love you, Momma. You know that, don’t know?” I whisper in her ear, hugging her tightly.
She lets out a melodic giggle, her joyful tears falling down her face.
“I do, sweet girl,” she murmurs, running her fingers through my hair. She then pulls me away, her smile still ten feet wide—even though her cheeks are stained with tears—and asks, “Now, are you going to wallow in what could have been? Or are you going to fight to achieve your goals, regardless of this little mishap?”
“Fight. Like I always do.”
“That’s my girl,” she hushes, palming my face in her hands, leaning in to place a tender kiss on each cheek.
I give her one more hug and then turn to start the engine, but my mother halts me, yet again, by placing her hand on my shoulder and says, “Stone, just one more thing. And this is important.”
“Okay,” I reply, confused as to what more she has to say.
“Whatever that boy did to you, he’s trying to make amends. Don’t let your heart grow cold when love is begging to be let in. Believe me when I tell you, life is too short to hold on to resentments. Take it from a woman who has lived most of her life clinging to her memories of love because the real thing was too far from her grasp.”
“I never said I loved him.”
“You didn’t need to. It’s written all over your face. Only love can hurt so much. I should know. It’s like looking in a mirror.”
“That’s different. Daddy never hurt you intentionally.”
“Oh, baby girl. Does it matter if it was intentional or not? Pain is pain. It’s finding the strength to forgive and allowing yourself to be happy that is challenging.”
“Are you done, Momma? I really have to get back to the dorm and study,” I lie, not wanting to talk about Finn any longer.
She finally lets me start the damn car and take her home, all the while letting me stew in my seat with her nuggets of heartfelt wisdom. She might be right on some accounts, but not all. Changing the vision I had for my future might not be that far-fetched, but forgiving Finn is something my mind won’t allow, even if my heart begs me to.
I thrash from one side of the bed to the other, unable to get a wink of sleep. Since I took my mother to her doctor’s appointment last Thursday, I’ve been more agitated than ever. Somehow, her words seeped into my subconscious, tormenting me even in my dreams.
The minute my weary heart and exhausted body allow sleep to take over, not only do I dream of stars just out of my reach, but also of a warm body hugging me to his side, begging me to love him. Knowing this is the misery that awaits me in my slumber, my brain wrestles with exhaustion, doing everything in its power to keep me awake. My bed has become a battle zone, the duvet and sheets all entwined at my feet, as I roll from one position to another, ordering my restless spirit to give me a moment’s peace.
To my mind’s dismay, the only comfort I find solace in is the pillow that still holds Finn’s lingering, woodsy