Page 21 of Heal Me, Love Me

“And he let him do it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he froze, but you know better than most that a second can change everything,” she stated.

Staring at my plate, the eggs and bacon blurred together as another memory took over. I saw Keaton in that room at Ridgway’s party, blood on his mouth as he waited for me to stop being a coward long enough to choose him.

I hadn’t.

So maybe Mom was right, and maybe one second didn’t tell the whole story.

But it could still ruin one.

“I’m not ready to talk to him,” I admitted.

“Then don’t talk to him yet. If hearing his voice right now means you’ll go in angry and say something you can’t take back, then don’t call him.”

“I don’t know what I’d say anyways.”

“That’s probably why you shouldn’t start with a phone call.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “He’s probably pissed.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Helpful.”

“I’m not here to make you comfortable, Ro. I’m here to tell you the truth.” She leaned back in her chair. “You left without giving him a chance to explain himself.”

“I know.”

“And maybe when you finally hear him out, you’ll still decide you can’t do this with him. But at least then you’ll be making a decision based on what happened, not on what fear told you happened.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I don’t want to forgive him just because I hurt him first.”

“You shouldn’t. If he hurt you, you’re allowed to feel that. What happened when you were seventeen doesn’t erase what happened last night. It also doesn’t mean you get to use last night as proof that you were right to leave before you know whether he actually betrayed you.”

The bathroom door opened down the hall.

Dad.

Mom glanced that way, then back at me. “You don’t have to fix this today.”

“I’m not sure it can be fixed.”

“It might not,” she said with a warm smile. “But not knowing doesn’t mean the answer is no.”

I reached for my coffee again, but it had gone lukewarm. I drank it anyway.

Dad’s footsteps moved down the hall, then a cabinet opened and closed. He didn’t come into the kitchen right away, and I knew it was intentional. He’d always been good at giving space when he decided it was needed.

Mom set her mug down. “You know how to follow orders. You know how to execute a plan. You know how to suppress what you feel so you can get through the next thing. That might have served you well in the Air Force. Maybe it serves you well in a fight too. But love isn’t a mission, Rowan. There’s no version of this where walking away counts as a win.”

I kept my face stoic, but the lump in my throat grew.

She reached across the table and touched my wrist. “I’m not telling you to forgive him. I’m not telling you to go back. I’m not telling you he deserves anything from you until you know the truth.”

“Then what are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you not to turn pain into orders.”