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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

"I'm fine," my mother repeats over and over. "It's you I'm worried about."

"How, Mom? Why are you thinking about me when you're the one stuck in this place?"

I finally break. A lifetime of pain and well-hidden fear . . . I’m exhausted. I’m only twenty-three, but I feel drained, trapped in this crazy world.

I’ve held it together until now, but I can’t hide, not today, how alone and terrified I feel.

Three days after the attack, my mom was discharged from the hospital. The wound turned out to be far more superficial than they initially thought, but that didn’t make the panic I felt any less real.

I’ve started talking to God again. I made every promise I could think of if only she could be freed from the accusations that damn prosecutor insists on pursuing.

I sold the boat to the first buyer who showed interest after everyone else backed out—and oddly enough, the man paid more than twice what it was worth.

Now I have all the money we need to pay our lawyers, and riding the wave of courage that started with that crazy weekend with LJ, I told Badger I wouldn’t be working at The Ugly Shrimp anymore.

I’m going to follow through on my plan to make real money with my YouTube channel and my podcast.

The audience has been growing for a long time, and cowardice was the only thing keeping me from acting sooner. But after throwing myself into the arms of a man like LJ, what could possibly scare me more than losing my mother? I don’t think much else can frighten me anymore.

The thought makes my chest tighten when I realize he hasn’t called or contacted me since he left that morning. But he said he’d be back this weekend.

Today’s already Sunday, silly, a mocking voice says inside my head. The weekend’s over, and he never came. When will you realize your worst fears came true? He’s already moved on.

Since the weekend began, I’ve cleaned the house three times. And Friday morning, even while furious at myself for doing it, I rode my bike past LJ’s cousin’s house—just to confirm it was empty.

"I’ll get out of here, Alexis. My faith in justice is unshakable. If not in man’s, then in God’s. He wouldn’t let me pay for a crime I didn’t commit. Now tell me this story about quitting The Ugly Shrimp ."

I tell her about the boat and my decision to invest in the career I really want.

"So you dropped out of college?"

"Mom, what’s the point? Rack up two hundred thousand dollars in student loans, only to end up doing what I love anyway—which is researching and narrating true crime? I got two more sponsors for my shows this week."

She places her hand over mine on the table, and I clench my jaw when I see her arm still wrapped in bandages. I never thought of myself as violent, but since my mother was hurt, I feel capable of anything.

"No, I don’t think you should chase a degree just for pride, not if it’s not what you want to do.

And it’s not even about the debt you might accumulate—it’s about the fact that, as you said, you already know what you want for your future.

However, that’s not the only reason your eyes look like that.

And it’s not my injury, either. What’s going on?

Is it because you didn’t visit me last Sunday? "

I nod, then tell her I spent my birthday weekend through Monday morning with him. "He said he’d be back this weekend. But today’s already Sunday."

I feel even more frustrated at how my voice sounds. I’ve always thought neediness was pathetic—even though, deep down, I know that’s exactly what I am. I have an emotional void filled with the fear that I’ll never be good enough to deserve love.

"Every move we make in life involves risk. But from what you’ve told me about this man, he doesn’t seem like the type to run or hide. I think he would’ve told you if he didn’t want to see you again."

"He promised he’d come back. And he didn’t. Isn’t silence its own kind of answer?"

"Sometimes, yes," she replies gently.

"I’ll be fine."

"You fell in love."

"No. Only a complete idiot falls in love in one weekend, Mom."

She gives me a sad smile. "Do you know how I met your father?"

"I thought you were neighbors."

"We were. But I was always a bookish girl. Kind of like you, when I was younger."

"You’re outgoing."

"I blossomed during my teens—once we started dating and our friendship turned into love. Your father, though . . . He was a light in this dark world. People were drawn to him because he had a glow of his own."

"And you were drawn to his charisma."

"Not really. I didn’t fall in love at first sight.

We were opposites. He was always messy and loved playing with toy cars.

I felt like a little lady—hair always neat and perfect.

He teased me. Mocked how proper I was. Pushed me out of my comfort zone.

And even at a young age, I realized he’d be my forever. "

"It was a pure kind of love."

"It was love . Period. It doesn’t always come wrapped in silk. Love can start with flowers and dinner invitations—or even with mutual and spontaneous annoyance, like in our case. It’s that internal click, that unmistakable shift, that tells you your life is about to change."

"Love ends."

"No. I think passion fades before it becomes love. True love goes quiet but never leaves. It’s dangerous because it never really dies."

"I don’t love LJ. I didn’t have time for that."

"But you’re in love with him."

"I—"

"You don’t have to answer. What I’m trying to say is, don’t feel ashamed or foolish for giving yourself to him, Alexis. I know you. You’re hard on yourself."

"And scared."

"Yes, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that you can’t protect yourself from pain.

Whether you take the risk or not, you’ll get hurt eventually.

It’s part of growing up, sweetheart. Disappointments come from all sides—friends, coworkers, lovers, family.

I hope this man didn’t just vanish and break your heart .

. . but if that’s what happened, even then, don’t regret what you shared.

Learn from it. Move forward. I’ll always be by your side. "