Mark walked in after about ten minutes and sat down across from me, putting his coffee cup on the ground and taking her other hand.

"This isn't your fault," he said after a few silent minutes.

"That's what everyone keeps saying," I muttered as I shook my head.

"It isn't," he said more firmly. "She wouldn't want you to blame yourself. She wouldn't-"

"Stop," I begged, my voice breaking on the p. "I've been horrible to her... you've seen it. How can you not hate me?"

He sighed before leaning back in his seat, all the while gazing at my mother. "I've known you for a lot longer than you've known me." My eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "She talks about you all the time," he said softly. "You and Derek."

"What'd she say?" I asked, hope and fear waging a war inside me.

He smiled as he looked over at me. "She says you're going to be a brilliant lawyer someday. She told me she should have known, what with how you argued with everyone when you were a kid. You hate wearing socks and are pretty messy unless someone forces you to be clean." He laughed as he thought of something else. "You love eating raw vegetables almost as much as you love eating candy."

I smiled at that and unconsciously squeezed her hand tighter.

"I told her that I hoped those two things weren't done together."

"No, never." I mock gasped in horror. "Did she defend my honor?"

His gaze turned sad as he looked back over at her, bringing his hand up to her head and pushing hair from her face. "No. She started laughing when I said that, and I got lost in her laughter. Lost in her. We never finished the conversation."

My own fleeting joy and nostalgia fell right with his. Clearing my throat, I asked, "Has she been happy?"

Mark smiled once more. "I'd like to think so. She's made me happy, and all I wanted to give her in return was that same happiness."

"And you love her?"

Love shone through his eyes even as he answered, "More than anything."

"How does it feel to know she doesn't feel the same?" It was a hard question, but I tried to say it as gently as possible.

Mark's smile fell and his posture stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... she loves drugs more than anything," I said as I waved my hand over her. "More than me... more than you. How do you stand it?" I asked, begging for an answer, begging to know how he had my mother in his life and had accepted that horribly sad truth.

His expression softened in understanding. "She doesn't love drugs. She loves the escape. The freedom. And that's the same thing I feel when I'm with her. I'm not condoning what she's done. I hate that we're back here, but I can't walk away..." He trailed off as his eyes filled with tears. He cleared his throat before roughly wiping away the evidence that had yet to fall. "Maybe I'm an addict too... and I'm just addicted to her, but I can't walk away."

We both continued to stare at my mother. She was no longer on oxygen, thankfully she was able to breath on her own. But she was still hooked up to an IV containing multiple vitamins, helping her combat the damage of drinking almost an entire bottle of gin. Apparently, she'd woken up a few times in the two days I'd been denying everything, and they were confident she'd be discharged soon. Alara had already mentioned several rehab programs Derek had been looking into.

"I love her," I admitted softly. "I know that may be hard to believe." I shrugged. "I love her, but I don't know how to live this kind of life."

Mark nodded. "You think losing her would be easier if you completely cut her out of your life?"

I looked around at the hospital room we were in but I already knew the answer.

No.

I'd cut my mom out for years and in a matter of weeks we were back here, me clutching her hand, silently begging her not to leave me. All the pain, frustration, sadness, and anger in the world wouldn't stop me from loving her.

"This will always be an issue for her. I won't lie and make it seem like she'll ever be 'better.' People are clean for twenty or thirty years sometimes and they relapse. That's the danger of this disease, you're never safe and it's unpredictable."

Unpredictable.

I hated that word. And judging by Mark's expression, he knew it. "But that's just life," he said slowly, with compa.s.sion. "And if you can put that aside, and I know it's hard, what I'm asking of you. But if you can do that and accept it for what it is, I think it'll be easier. Not easy, just easier."

How did you accept something like that? How did I accept seeing my mom like that?

One day.

It came to me swiftly and surely.

This wouldn't happen overnight. And maybe it would never fully settle. Maybe, like most things, I'd have to work at it every day just like she did. Every day I'd have to make the conscious choice to accept and forgive her. And hopefully she could do the same. Because I never should have cut her out of my life in the first place.

My mother loved me, of that I was certain. I may have doubted the degree and over which drug, but I knew I was loved. Some people, Ellie and Damien included, didn't have that from their parents.

And maybe if I'd been more understanding, more sympathetic to her situation and her difficulties, she would have called me instead of drowning in gin. Maybe we wouldn't be in a hospital right now.

All I had were maybes. And despite how much I hated it, how much I'd prefer to control my life... I couldn't. Life was a handful of maybes, hoping they shook out in your favor.

Mark left me a few minutes later with the excuse that he was getting more coffee, but honestly I thought my tears were a bigger factor. My voice had shaken with my goodbye and my shoulders were tense in an effort to contain my sobs. Once the door shut behind him, I let my pain loose once more, crying for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours.

Apparently, there would be no end to my tears.

I woke up with a kink in my neck. Swearing, I twisted my body and ma.s.saged the ache until the pain subsided.

"Hi." My mom's voice cracked and my head whipped toward her.

"Ouch," I mumbled as I gripped my neck.

"Sorry, sorry." Her voice broke again as she kept mumbling apologies.

"Stop talking," I lightly admonished as I reached for a cup of water. I helped tilt her head up as I poured some of it down her throat. She nodded her thanks and laid back again the pillow. "Better?"

"Yes," she said, with only a tiny bit of scratch to it this time. "Much. Thank you."

I didn't say anything as I gingerly sat back down. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I tucked them under my thighs, effectively trapping them.

"Hey, Mom." I smiled as her eyes filled with tears. We both sat in silence for a few minutes, unsure of what to say or how to act.

"I need to tell you something," she said softly.

"What is it?" I asked.

She hesitated before nodding to herself. "It's about your graduation day."

My heart dropped. "It's okay, Mom. We don't have to talk about it." I tried to give her a smile, to let her know it was okay and that I was starting to accept the past.

"We do," she said fiercely. "I did a lot of things wrong. I'm not denying any of that. But you need to know the truth about that day." She paused and I gave her a nod to continue. "A friend of mine had been getting cravings again. I went and sat with her to make sure she didn't use." Tears shimmered in her eyes. "I didn't even realize the time until I was walking out her door, trading places with her husband who'd just come home. I r-raced to get to you, but I didn't... I didn't m-make it. I called Derek and he told me you'd already left to celebrate with your friends."

My thoughts were whirling. After everything that'd had happened between us, I'd never considered giving her the benefit of the doubt on the day of my graduation. It just became another way she failed me. I never considered an excuse for any of it, knowing that if I did I'd lose some of my anger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. But I already knew the answer, and based on the sad look she was giving me, she knew I did, too.

"Derek said it's because my guilt overrode everything else. And he was right. I became okay with you laying all the blame on me because I felt I deserved it. And while I did deserve some of it, I should have been honest with you. I should have done a lot of things. But I felt I deserved all your anger."

"Maybe you did," I started, remembering something Damien said, that my emotions weren't limited to one thing. I rushed on so she didn't feel bad again. "But you also deserved my understanding, my compa.s.sion, my... love. I thought it had to be one or the other. It didn't. And I'm... I'm so sorry, Mom."

She reached her hand out and I gladly took it. "Don't be." She looked around the hospital room and pinched her eyes shut like she was in pain. "I'm sorry. I can't believe I just got you back, and I've already dragged you here."

I didn't respond. I didn't say it was okay, because it wasn't. None of it had been. But for once, I didn't make it worse. I didn't add to her guilt when she clearly had enough of it. I played with one of the hospital bands on her wrist as I prepared myself for the toughest question.

"Was it because of me?"

"What?" The word came out on a gasp, expressing her surprise, confusion, and anger all at once. My gaze had been focused on her hand, but I forced myself to look into her eyes.

"Why... why were you in that situation in the first place? Was it because of me? Because I'd been so hard on you?"

"No." She didn't even hesitate, and despite the weakness she must have been feeling, she tugged on my hand to really drive the point home. "Absolutely not, Naomi. That was my mistake, and my mistake alone. Your feelings weren't unfounded. I can't imagine what I put you through, and I hate that I did that." Some of her tears finally fell as I felt my own eyes welling up for the bajillionith time. "It was stressful because I didn't want to let you down again. I know that might not make much sense."

I gave her a small smile. "I don't think addiction makes any kind of sense."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." She smiled sadly as she reached out and stroked my necklace. "You know what finally got me clean?" She didn't wait for my answer before continuing. "I started thinking about missing your graduation. It had been an accident, but how many more events was I losing? Would I miss your college graduation, too? Your wedding? Would I ever get to hold my grandchildren?" She sniffled. "Would I ever get to see Derek sing again? What about his wedding? His children? I knew he'd probably let me back in, but I wanted to be better for both of you." My mother closed her eyes in pain. "But we're still here. It's like nothing has changed."

"That's not true. You've changed. I've changed... or I'm trying to at least." I grabbed hold of my necklace. "I can't promise I won't get mad, I probably will. But that's because I don't want anything to happen to you. You're my mother and I love you. But I can promise I'll come back. I'll always come back."

Her smile was wide and bright despite her tears. "I love you, too. And I can't promise I won't relapse, either. I'm an addict and I'll always struggle. But I can promise if I do relapse, I'll fight back ten times as hard to make sure it doesn't happen again."

We both nodded, acknowledging that we'd stay flawed, but that it wouldn't change our love. After several silent minutes, I remembered something. I could give her one of those moments back right now.

Slowly disentangling our hands, I reached down and fumbled around in my bag before pulling it out. "I came to see you that day because... well... I got in." I held out the Yale acceptance letter and watched her eyes widen as she shuffled up in bed. She winced and fiddled with some tubes.

"Don't move, I can-"

"Hush," she said. "Let me see." She smiled like nothing else mattered, like she wasn't lying in a hospital bed after having her stomach pumped. She was acting like she would have if we were in some alternate universe, where we were sitting in a five-star restaurant, eating expensive food and celebrating my admission like any other normal family.

I watched her eyes fly over the paper as she mouthed the words. Her lips began to quiver and she brought one hand up to quiet her sob. "Oh my G.o.d," she murmured in wonder. Lifting her eyes to mine, she set the paper aside and held out her arms. "Naomi..."

I leaned forward, taking care of all the wires and tubes, and gently wrapped my arms around her.

"I'm so proud of you. I never doubted for a second you'd get in."

"Thanks. Me neither."

We pulled back, laughing. My mom lightly pinched my cheek. "So humble."

"I try."

A knock sounded and the door opened a crack.

"Hey." Mark poked his head in, his smile widening as he took the two of us in. "Is there room for two more?" He pulled it back further to reveal Derek. My brother gave me a sheepish look, his eyes holding more apologies than he could ever voice. He looked nervous, but I was done being angry with the people I loved. I was done missing out on our time together just so I could hold a grudge.

"Of course," my mom said. Mark walked straight to her, revealing flowers he had hidden behind his back. She blushed and thanked him as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. When he pulled back his expression was more serious. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and spoke to her in soft whispers. She also looked solemn as she kept nodding and rea.s.suring him she was okay.

"Hey." Derek came up and dropped his arm over my shoulders.

"Hi." I leaned into him and wrapped one arm around his middle, giving him a squeeze.

I felt him kiss the side of my head before whispering, "We good?"

"Always."

Naomi spent all day yesterday with her mother. And I spent all of yesterday waiting in the hallway in case she needed anything. The only time I left was to head outside and take a phone call from Grayson. He informed me that no charges were filed against Naomi's mother. Despite Naomi's knowledge of drugs being present, the paramedics found none when they arrived. And I knew, instantly I knew, Naomi had gotten rid of them. For all her talk of how horrible she'd been, despite all her fears and anger, she would protect her family. Always.

When I brought her home last night, I made love to her slowly. It was a promise. A promise that I loved her, she could trust me, we were partners and I'd never leave her.

That happy promise was cast in a shadow this morning when Naomi mentioned her graduation, which was in a couple of days. She was talking a mile a minute about how happy she was that her mother would be allowed to leave her month-long rehabilitation center in order to attend.

"How's your mom doing?" I asked as I put a cup of coffee in front of her and kissed her temple. When I leaned back her eyes were closed and the tiniest of smiles graced her lips.

"Better. I think we're gonna be okay." I sat down across from her and just stared. Catching me, she looked up and smiled wider. When I didn't return her smile, hers fell. "Are we okay?" she asked, a nervous. .h.i.tch to her voice.

My gaze wandered around her face, finally landing on her eyes. "I really love you... you know that, right?" She began nodding, a slightly confused expression on her face, but I didn't let her say anything. "Naomi, you are one of the strongest people I know, and there's no doubt in my mind that you could be by yourself and be okay. But you don't have to be, as amazing as you are, you don't need to be alone." My voice was calm and confident as I continued. "I'm not as good with arguments and words like you are, we both know that... even if I can't always admit it." Her lips tipped up into a trembling smile as a single tear ran down her face. "So I know there is no way I'd ever be able to tell you how much you mean to me. You'll never know how much I love you. But I need you to understand you can trust me.

"Love isn't always safe, Naomi. It can destroy you. But I need you to trust that I would never do that to you. I'll always be on your side, and by your side. No matter what. Even if you go to Yale. Nothing will change. Nothing-"

My words were cut off as I watched Naomi stand and walk around the table to straddle me. Her hands immediately dove into my long hair and she yanked me to her, slamming our mouths together. I groaned as I clutched her waist, feeling the soft cotton of my T-shirt beneath my fingers.

I'd pursued her, and I thought I knew the effect she would have on me. I thought I understood how completely she'd own me. I hadn't had a f.u.c.king clue. Because now I sat here, feeling her in every part of me, wondering how I was ever going to give her up.

She pulled away, heavy pants filling the s.p.a.ce between us, as she looked down at me with love in her eyes.

"I'm not leaving," she said with a bright smile. I felt the air leave my lungs in a giant puff before I froze.

"What?" My eyes darted between hers, the nervous action betraying the calmness in my voice.

"I'm not going to Yale. How can I?" Naomi shrugged like it was obvious and leaned forward to kiss me once more.

"No, no, no..." I gripped her hands and pulled them from around my neck. "I can't ask you to stay."

She feigned looking hurt. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Be serious." I leaned forward, kissing her shoulder and inhaling the delicious fruity scent of her.

"Going to Yale wasn't the dream," she said quietly, her breath tickling my ear as she leaned down and rested her head against my shoulder. "Going to law school was all I really wanted. Going to school here won't change that. In fact, University of Carillo is actually in the top twenty percent of law schools." I lifted her shirt and rested my palms on her bare lower back.