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I sat with that for a second, absorbing what she’d said. I couldn’t imagine… Just saying and showing what you thought and felt instead of covering it over and hiding it to stay safe.

Because everybody on this ranch knew deep down it was safe to say whatever the hell they wanted. To show whatever emotion they were having.

As if… as if it was normal to just have a conflict without it turning into disaster. And that was something I could barely even comprehend.

I blinked harder, getting up and walking towards the window, and for the first time since Jeremiah had come in yelling, my heartbeat finally started to slow.

I was safe.

Everything was okay.

I’d just operated on a fight or flight instinct the second I felt those old feelings. I lifted a trembling hand to my forehead, wiping away the cold sweat.

I closed my eyes and leaned it against the cold glass. It felt nice against my flushed skin.

“I’m a complete mess,” I whispered.

“Oh, honey.” I felt Ruth’s hand at my back. “Welcome to the club.”

“I made a fool out of myself.”

“I doubt it. I would have been mortified if anyone had found me like that and said those things. Difference between us is, I would have gotten pissed and wanted to start throwing fists. But you’re a sweet girl who takes the whole world on your shoulders, it seems like.”

I laughed. “You’re fight, I’m flight.”

Then my smile faded. “I always thought it would be more heroic to stand and fight.”

Sometimes I felt like such a wimp for being Jeff’s victim. The whole thought of it made me want to crawl out of my skin. But I knew if I ever tried fighting back, it would just go twice as bad. It was futile.

Ruth shook her head and made a face. “No way. It’s a terrible idea. As someone who got in my share of actual fights all growing up, I can tell you, it doesn’t solve much. It feels good for about three seconds to lash out. But then someone’s usually hitting you back. And that sucks.”

“You can say that again.”

Her eyebrow went up at that, and I wished I could take it back. Luckily, she went on talking. “Even the fights I managed to win, and there were a couple, it’s not like anything good happened. I was suspended for two weeks the last time, ostracized as the girl with the temper. Then boys were even more of jerks trying to get a rise out of me after I got back.”

I shook my head. “Kids are ruthless. It’s a miracle any of us survive to adulthood.”

“Right?” She knocked my shoulder with hers. “But look. Both of us made it.”

I scoffed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly the paradigm of mental health and stability. Until I get that paycheck, I still only actually have a single pair of clothes to my name. I’m twenty-nine years old and starting completely over again from scratch with nothing. And I have no idea what the hell I’m doing most of the time.”

Ruth’s left eyebrow rose. “Then it sounds to me that you shouldn’t be running away from the few friends you’ve managed to actually find. Maybe good friends and situations are a dime a dozen wherever it is you come from, but around here—”

“They aren’t,” I said quickly. “I promise you, they aren’t. I’ve never—” I shook my head. “I mean, I can’t even remember the last time I had a conversation like this with someone who was just, totally real and nonjudgmental. It feels amazing. And refreshing. And, yeah, amazing.”

Ruth nodded. “Exactly, besides Olivia, I haven’t had anyone else either till you and the boys came along.”

“You call what you and Jeremiah do having genuine conversations?”

She grinned. “Arguing is the best kind of genuine conversation. I can be my most ornery, crotchety, opinionated self and he’s not intimidated. He just gives back as good as I give. In a good argument, there’s a level of respect, else why bother?”

“And Jeremiah’s a good arguer?” I asked, not getting it as anything I would ever want but trying to understand it for her sake.

She grinned. “He’s the best I’ve come across. And he actually listens to what I have to say. That’s a new one.”

Then she wagged her finger at me. “I see you trying to get the conversation back on me. Back to the point. So you’re staying, right? That’s where this conversation has been circling round to. We’re worth it, trust me.”

“It’s not that,” I sighed. “It was never that. I know you’re worth it.”

“So why leave then?” she cut in, eyebrows raised like she knew she had me in a checkmate.

And the truth was, she had me stumped. Because if I started trying to go into how the problem was me, how I was broken and not fit to be around good people, how I was too selfish, a disease that seemed to infect every situation I was a part of…

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