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A part of me—the same one that had been hounding me since I’d flown to Charleston—screamed at me that Caspian wasn’t that type of man. That he’d never leave his pregnant partner behind to have a fling with me…but he was the one who said I didn’t truly know him.

“She is,” Mom said. “They look so happy. The rest of the team isn’t bad to look at either.” I laughed. “I especially love the one with long blond hair.”

“Mom!” I chided her, but it felt good to laugh.

“What?” she asked, shrugging. “I can appreciate good looking men when I see them, doesn’t mean I want one.”

I shook my head, glancing at the page. I saw Cannon and his wife Persephone, but no blond man. “All right, show me,” I said, and Mom reached across the table, flipping a few pages until she pointed at Axel, Caspian’s captain.

“That’s Axel,” I said. “You met him.”

“Did I?” she asked, and laughed. “It must’ve been quick. All you young kids were running around like crazy during those wedding events. We barely even saw each other.”

That was true, but—

I jolted in my seat.

“Ryleigh?” Mom asked, tone full of concern. “What is it?”

I gaped at the woman who had her arm linked with Axel’s—it was the same woman from Caspian’s house. Langley Pierce, aka Axel’s very pregnant wife and PR rep for the Reapers. “Ohmigod,” I said, shaking my head. Axel had mentioned his wife couldn’t come because of the pregnancy, and I hadn’t even thought…

But Caspian hadn’t corrected me either. Why? Because he didn’t believe what I’d said? Or because he was scared to let me in since he lived there and I lived here?

“Ryleigh,” Mom said again, and I blinked out of my spiral.

“Sorry,” I said, shutting the magazine. “Just realizing how stubborn Caspian is.”

“Ha!” Mom shook her head. “And you aren’t?”

She had a point there, one I couldn’t argue. Because once again, if we’d just actually, honestly talked about what was going on, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation. But I was so torn up inside from everything I didn’t know what to think now.

“Darling, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, and now seems like the perfect time. You’re not as near as mopey as you were when you got home.” I gaped at her, but she raised her hands in defense. “I want to run the store by myself.”

“Mom, we’ve been over this—”

“And you haven’t ever listened to me because you’re so stubborn,” she cut me off. “You’ve finally gotten the closure you needed with Chuck, and you have your deposit back. This is the time to take hold of your life, Ryleigh. Trust me, you don’t want to wake up one day and regret not going after something you want, and as your mother, I’m telling you to chase your dreams.”

I swallowed hard, unable to speak as she got up from the table, grabbed a packet off the kitchen island, and came back. She plopped it in front of me. It was the letters and information from MCAD. They kept sending her more and more as if they knew she’d be the voice of reason.

“I can see you working up for an argument, so I’ll save you the breath,” she said, tapping her fingers on the paper. “You have a talent and a passion. You need to explore it. If you get out there and hate the master’s program, fine, I’ll let you come back and work for me if that’s what you really want. But you won’t know until you try.”

“But what about you? Honestly, what about the store?”

“I ran it just fine before you and will just fine after. So, and I say this with all the love I have for you in my heart, you’re officially fired.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I scooted back from the table, crossing the space between us and throwing my arms around her like I was a little girl again. And I cried on my mama’s shoulder—cried from happiness to have the support of someone who loved me so much, and cried because I’d known I wanted to do this for so long, but I was just too stubborn to let go. Too stubborn to realize that staying here wasn’t going to bring my dad back. I would carry him with me where ever I went. And I cried even harder because while I was excited about this new venture, I was so damn sad Caspian wasn’t going to be a part of it.

Mom pushed me back after I’d calmed down, smoothing some hair out of my face. “What are you waiting for, my girl? Get packing. I’ll get on the phone with admissions.”

I laughed, swiping the tears off my cheeks. “I can call admissions,” I said, but she was already walking across the kitchen, phone in hand.

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