Page 43 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

Vibrations coming from my purse rip me away from my illicit thoughts as I swing my legs off the side of the bed. Four in the morning. Who the hell is calling me at this hour?

Panic immediately sets in, spiking my heart rate and pricking my skin like a thousand little needles. I do my best not to jostle Logan awake as I scramble to get to my phone.

Oh, god. What if it’s Mom? Or Dad? Or Nora?

It’s dark in the hotel room with only the light from the Strip filtering through the large windows.

I stumble on the way toward my purse, tripping over piles of clothes.

A loud whack sends sharp pain shooting through my knee and out from my heel, lighting my leg on fire from hitting the shit out of it on the corner of the couch.

“Shit fuck,” I mutter, hobbling and bent over while rubbing circles around my aching knee.

Finally, I dig my phone out and see my mother’s picture fill the screen. I’ve never answered a call so fast in my life as my hands tremble, clutching it to my ear.

“Mama? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” I try not to talk too loud, but Logan’s ocean sounds drown out the shrill in my voice. My hand splays over my naked chest, and I do my best to slow my breathing before I pass out.

“Nora? Oh, I’m so happy you answered. I miss you, sayang. ”

Cold air washes over me in an instant. A gush of air escapes my lungs, leaving me breathless and stock-still. The hand not holding the phone flies over my mouth as I cover a sob, and I slowly fall to my knees.

It’s like I’m hearing Mom’s diagnosis all over again, but this time it’s so much worse. It’s real. More real than I could ever be prepared for.

Is she forgetting me? Deep in her subconscious, am I fading and the only child she seeks comfort from is my sister?

My mom called me Nora once before, and it tore me apart. My dad assured me he’d take care of her, and that associating me with familiar people in her life is a common symptom of her illness. It’s not anger I feel toward my mother over the fact that she calls me my sister’s name.

It’s the pain and sadness I feel for not being able to bring her daughter back to her.

I failed.

I came here to convince Nora to come home, and instead, I got myself tangled up in the webs of Logan and the whirlwind evolution of our relationship. I ignored the pain my sister has brought on my family—my mother—and fell into bed with my best friend to forget it all.

The guilt rising from my gut churns like rough waters within me. I swallow it down.

There are two options I’m left with: Indulge my mother, or correct her.

Both hurt and will leave me bleeding—a painful double-edged sword.

“Hi, Mama. I miss you, too. So, so much.” My voice falters, clogging in my throat with thick anguish.

Her breaths come even over the phone, almost as if she’s asleep. Concern marks my face at her silence. I go to open my mouth when she finally whispers, “Please come home.”

Thick, fat tears fall from my eyes, landing in a splash against the tops of my thighs.

I’m naked, shivering on the carpet from the moment my mom called out to Nora and not me.

After a night that brought me to the highest of highs, one phone call throws everything off-kilter, sending me plummeting face first toward Earth at a shattering speed.

When the overwhelming weight of helplessness takes over, you’re a prisoner to it.

It’s like no matter which direction you go to find any bit of solace, the heartache is still there.

It lingers, sitting like an elephant on top of your heart and you can barely breathe or find any sort of reprieve.

I’m running in circles, trying to find an escape route that could get me toward relief, but it never comes.

I’m stuck.

Nibbling hard on my bottom lip, I calculate my response in my head, praying I can at least give my mother an escape—even if it’s impossible for me.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to come home, Mama. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

A quiet hum is the only response I get before the line goes dead. I stare at the screen on my phone with an emptiness in my gaze.

It’s a photo of Logan sitting in my lap with Audrey’s veil on his head from the engagement party.

We’re mid-laugh with smiles stretched so wide our eyes are barely visible.

I can’t ignore the tiny spark of life igniting in me when I look at it.

The warmth it causes in my chest. The love that permeates.

All I know is the man currently in the bed twenty feet away makes the pain go away. When I don’t know where to turn, I can count on him to help me find the way. I don’t have to be lost with him. Logan will always find me.

I don’t know what our future holds, but I have no doubts Logan will be part of it. We can’t take back this weekend. I can’t take back my mom’s illness. And I can’t take back the night Nora left us.

But I can do the right thing, and the realization of what I need to do has me standing on shaky legs. I find a bathrobe draped over the back of the couch that took out my knee. Wrapping the plush material around my body, I sink into the cushions and make a phone call.

“Sweetheart? Is everything okay?”

With tears in my eyes and a faint smile on my lips, I answer without an ounce of doubt in me.

“Daddy, I’m moving back home.”