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I bit my tongue for a moment.

“I guess,” I said dully. “I just didn’t think the struggle would be this hard.”

My mom looked at me and sighed then.

“Any struggle is hard,” she said dryly. “Why do you think it’s called struggle? Why is work called work? Because this shit is hard and you can’t expect things to turn out perfect, easy-peasy, with no blood, sweat and tears.”

I was quiet again.

“But why does it feel that I have no options? Like I’m stuck in a corner?” I asked, my voice breaking.

My mom snorted again, but her voice was gentler this time.

“Katy, you’re young,” she rasped. “You’re only eighteen, how can you say you have no options? I’m the one with no options because no one wants someone like me with loads of baggage and a history of … well, never mind,” she said.

“What I mean is that the world is your oyster and all you have to do is reach out your hand and take it. There are two men who love you and you love them too. So what do you mean by no options? You’ve got so many options, it’s crazy. You shouldn’t be here mopey and sad. Go on, go live your life,” she commanded.

But I shook my head miserably again.

“That’s the problem exactly,” I wailed. “There are two men. What am I gonna do with two men? What are people going to say when they find out about us?”

My mom closed her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose as if a migraine were bursting in her brain.

“Girl,” she said wryly, putting her hand over mine and looking at me pointedly. “I’m only gonna say this once, because you know this already. Sure, it matters what people think, but only up to a point. What really, truly matters, is that there are two men who love you, and you love them too. So go and get it! How long do you think they’re going to wait? How long do you think you can dilly-dally, moping like a wet rag, pulling your hair out while they sit and grow restless? You think you’re so special, a unique star, the one and only gift to mankind?”

With that, Tina touched on my deepest fear, my innermost doubt. Because Brent and Jason were alpha males, and I’d seen with my own eyes how women threw themselves at them right and left, shameless and uninhibited. Sure, they’d pledged themselves to me, but since I’d disappeared from their lives, how long did I have? How long before they forgot me and found another woman? Another two women? Three even?

Suddenly, my heart began racing. Because Tina was right. What mattered most was how much I adored these men, and this adoration was returned double, even ten-fold by Jason and Brent. I’d been screwing things up on my own, weaving a web of stories, of what-ifs, of horrors, and the only person that I’d trapped was myself. There were a million outcomes to this story, there were a million possibilities and only time could tell. But in the meantime, there was still us. There was still irretrievably, unconditionally us … I hoped.

So I sat up suddenly, jolting to life and grabbing my jacket.

“Mom, gotta go,” I rushed, tongue tangled. “I have to see Jason and Brent. I have to tell them. Bye!”

And with that, I was out the door, galloping across the trailer park, heart in throat, feet pounding. Meanwhile, my mom’s voice rang tinnily in my ears, fading with the distance.

“Tell them thank you for me, Katy. Tell them thank you for loving and caring for a daughter of mine.”

With those words, tears pooled in my eyes even as my heart expanded and then overflowed. Because I was running to my future, and there was no doubt what it was. Jason and Brent were my future, and I was desperate to find them and tell them, to bury myself in their arms, complete the circle that was us, to fall in love over and over again … as long as they would still have me.

13

Brent

She came tearing down the drive towards our trailer, brunette curls flying, face flushed before hurling herself into my arms.

“Brent,” she gasped, her face pressed against my jacket. “I’ve missed you.”

This was new. Katy’s never been affectionate in public, so this was different. I bent my head to her, holding her tight, and murmured into her curls.

“Come on, pretty baby,” I said, my voice low and rough. “Let’s go inside.”

And with my arm around her shoulders, we walked up the steps into our home. The trailer was the same as always, nothing had changed in the two weeks she’d been gone. Oh wait, Jason had installed new cabinets and damn, those babies gleamed and shone, classy and elegant in the small space.

“Where is he?” she panted, brown eyes wide, looking around. “Where’s Jason?”

The big man stepped from his room then, his form tall, broad, intimidating, looming in the doorway.

“Here,” was all he said, voice low.

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