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Twice.

“Hello?” my momma answered.

I closed my eyes. “Hey, Mama.”

“Zane?” My mother’s voice came through like a song.

There was a beat of silence. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” I swallowed. “But I’m okay.”

The line stayed quiet again, then I heard her sigh. “What happened?”

And I told her.

Not everything—not the details about Sam or the beach or how I was currently curled up in Sam’s house, wearing his shirt, lusting over him. But I told her about Mark. About Janet. About how I felt so stupid and so stuck, and how I wished I’d listened to her.

“I was trying to love him the way you loved Daddy,” I said. “Even when it stopped being good.”

“Oh, baby,” she whispered. “I should’ve just been louder about you not marrying him. I could see from the start he wasn’t for you.”

Tears ran before I realized they were coming. I wiped them with the back of my wrist, shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, Mama. For cutting y’all off. For thinking I knew everything. For making y’all worry. None of this is your fault.”

“We just wanted you to be safe. To be happy. We still want that.” Her voice cracked. “You come home whenever you need to. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” I whispered. “I love you. Tell Daddy I love him too.”

“We love you too.”

When I hung up, the air felt easier to breathe. Lighter.

I went to find Sam. He was in the living room, shirtless, eating leftovers out of a plastic container like it was a gourmet meal. He ate like he was starving sometimes. I liked that he enjoyed what I made for him, though.

I just stared for a minute. The way I was feeling him didn’t make any sense—not under the circumstances. It was messing with me because I didn’t know if it was because of what I’d been missing, or because he was really this good.

He looked up when he saw me, mouth full, a little sauce on the side of his cheek. “You okay?”

I nodded, but it felt too small. I walked over, slid onto the couch beside him, knees curled under me. “I called my mom.”

He blinked. Swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. First time in years.”

He didn’t say anything right away. He set the container on the coffee table and turned to face me, like he knew I wasn’t done.

“She answered. Listened. No ‘I told you so.’ Just… Momma stuff.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t know how much I missed that.”

Sam reached out, tugged gently at my ankle until my legs draped across his lap. His hand rested there—warm, still.

“I’m proud of you,” he said simply.

“I feel like I’ve wasted so much time.”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “You’re too young to dwell on that shit. You’re gonna make a lot more mistakes. That’s part of life. What matters is you keep choosing yourself after.”

His thumb brushed the curve of my calf, I don’t even think he realize what he didn’t even realize he was doing it. But it was sending shock waves right to the spot in between my thighs.

I nodded. “You’re right…”