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“You’re obviously not there yet, and when you are, you’ll realize you don’t have to look far because she’s been right in front of you this whole time.”

“Wait. You knew about Claire?”

Mom pats my cheek. “I’m your mother, Trevor. I know everything. You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at Claire every time she came over here? When she was around, you’d trip over your own feet. And she was the same way, but I think she fought it a little more than you did. I knew if you two would give each other a solid chance, you’d have a shot at real relationship.”

“Do you think I’m relationship material? This is the first real one I’ve ever had.”

“Sit down.” Mom pulls out a chair, and when I sit down, she sits next to me. “It’s not about being relationship material. It’s about finding your other half—the one person who makes you smile and laugh, who’s there for you when you’re down and picks you back up. The person who makes you want to be better and do better. Your father is my person, and I know there’s someone out there for each of my children.”

I blink, a wave of memories washing over me.

Claire sticking up for me at the rock quarry.

Getting the nerve to ask her to dance at my freshman prom, and her saying yes.

Holding her in my arms as we swayed to the music, and the kiss she planted on my cheek when the song ended.

Teaching her how to drive the snowmobile when Rhett and Coop were too busy trying to impress other girls.

Carrying Claire down the hill after she hurt her ankle.

Battling her at Mario Brothers in the basement while my brothers and all their other friends played spin the bottle in the barn.

Kissing her that first time at Animal Haven.

And the second kiss we shared, and third and the fourth.

Touching her and making love to her for the first time.

Watching her come alive on that stage at the pier.

Curling up on the couch and watching movies.

God, the memories are endless and perfect and, “Claire is my person,” I announce.

“I know she is, darling. I can see it in your eyes. Now you have to hold on to that, and no matter what, you don’t let go. You fight for her no matter what the cost.”

“Maybe Claire and I have made it through all the shit. Maybe this is our end,” I say, recalling my conversation with Dad.

“Oh shit. You’ve already talked to your dad, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t tell your dad I said this, but his theory on relationships and love is way off the mark. Next time you need relationship advice, you just come to your mama.”

“Really? I don’t think he’s all that far off the mark. Everything he said made perfect sense.”

“Okay.” She sighs and grabs a rag from the table. “Don’t tell him this either, or he’ll never let me live it down. His theory isn’t completely right, but it’s not completely wrong either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your entire relationship will be the shit part your dad talks about, because relationships are work—hard work that doesn’t end. It never, ever ends. You’ll have good periods and bad periods, and there will be times you’ll wonder if it’s worth it, and you’ll be tempted to throw in the towel. But if your love is pure and strong, you’ll work through it.”

“So then when do you hit the end that Dad talks about?”

“You don’t. And it’s not the end that’s important anyway; it’s all the stuff that comes before it. It’s the memories and the laughter and the fights and—oh my gosh, Claire is here.”

Mom flies out of her chair, leaving me to ponder everything she said. I think there’s truth to both Mom and Dad’s theories, and they both must know what they’re talking about if they’ve made it this far, right?

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