“Kind of. I don’t know.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him. I do.”

“I know, honey. And it’s okay.” I struggled to hold back the sob attempting to tear out of my chest. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Inside my room, I undressed, crawled into bed, and proceeded to soak my pillow with tears.

I felt like I’d let down everyone I cared about. I felt like I’d screwed up my fresh start. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right no matter how hard I tried. Was I just destined to make mistake after mistake? I’d confused and upset my children, who were depending on me. I’d gone after Henry knowing full well I had nothing to offer him. I’d allowed myself to believe something more between us was possible—and I’d allowed him to believe it too.

How was I going to face him again?

I tried to list all the reasons why he would be better off without me . . .

I was an emotional wreck. I was a single mother. I had trust issues.

I was scared. Scarred. Damaged in places that couldn’t be seen.

I would never feel completely safe in a relationship again. I would always doubt the promises he made. I would never be able to put him first, the way he deserved.

Then there were all the things about me that Brett hated.

I cried easily. I liked sappy movies. I listened to Christmas music starting on November first. I wore short skirts. I liked Michigan more than California. I preferred hugs to diamond bracelets. It sometimes took me a long time to reach orgasm—although that hadn’t really been an issue for Henry.

But maybe the strongest case against me where Henry was concerned was my infertility. Granted, the issue of having children together should probably not matter until two people have had at least one actual date, but we weren’t twenty-five and flippant about the future. The reality was that Henry wanted children, and that would never happen with me. It couldn’t.

How could I have thought we made sense?

Because it felt so good with him. So easy. So right.

But in the end, it didn’t matter—I had to give him up.

After a sleepless night, I came downstairs so early, my mother was the only one up. She took one look at the bags beneath my bloodshot eyes and asked me what was going on.

I broke down and told her the whole story—minus the dirty sex stuff—over cups of coffee at the kitchen table. How I’d felt so drawn to Henry as soon as I’d moved back. How we spent so much time just talking and opening up to each other. How easily we understood one another and how good it felt to be wanted that way again. She listened, nodding in sympathy, and fetched me a box of tissues when I couldn’t hold back the tears.

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry,” she said, rubbing my arm. “How terrible for you.”

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing, Mom,” I begged, blowing my nose.

“You’re doing the right thing, Sylvia.” Her eyes filled too. “Being a mother is the hardest job there is. I can’t imagine doing it on my own. And there will be many times in your life where your own needs have to be put aside for those of your children.”

“I know,” I blubbered.

“But it’s the most rewarding job too,” she went on. “Raising you girls gave my life such beautiful purpose. Seeing you grow up has been the most fulfilling experience of my life. When you’re happy, I feel it in my soul.” She took my hand. “And when you’re sad and struggling, it breaks my heart. So I know how you feel when you look at Whitney.”

“I just never know if I’m making the right choices for them,” I confessed. “Or for me. Everything I thought I knew turned out to be false. Everything I thought I had didn’t really exist. Everything I thought I wanted seemed so close—and yet I could never fully grasp it no matter how hard I tried. And I did try, Mom. I tried so hard.”

“I know you did, honey. I know you did.”

I wiped away my tears. “In the end, I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. Growing up, I felt so confident, so full of hopes and dreams, so sure that if I just followed my heart, good things would happen. Somehow I’ve lost that girl along the way. I thought if I moved back here, I might be able to find her, but now I’m afraid she’s gone for good. What’s the use of hopes and dreams anyway? They always get crushed.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” my mother said fiercely, taking my chin in her hand and forcing me to look at her. “That girl you were, the one full of hopes and dreams, she’s still in there somewhere. Your father and I raised our girls to follow their hearts because that is where true happiness lies. I’ve never said it won’t lead you through some dark woods, but you’ll come out the other side. Give yourself time to find your way, Sylvia. And never stop following your heart—your daughter will learn from you. Remember that.”

I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and gave my mother a frail smile, although her words had made me feel a little stronger. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

She got up from her chair and came to stand behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “You’re tougher than you know, my darling.”

“I hope so.”

“And I love you.”

I placed my hands on her forearms and breathed in her familiar gardenia scent. “I love you too.”

Later we took the kids over to Mack and Frannie’s for football and chili. The moment I walked into the kitchen, my sister grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs to her bedroom. Shutting the door behind us, she sat on the end of the bed and patted the spot in front of her. “Sit. And talk to me. I heard what happened.”

“From who?”

“Last night from Henry, and then this morning from Millie. She’s worried about Whit.”

Promising myself I wouldn’t break down, I lowered myself onto the bed. “Whitney’s okay, I think. But I might not be.” I caught her up on everything that had happened—how Henry and I had only grown closer over the last week, how I’d assured Whitney we were only friends, how he’d asked me for more last night and I’d been so excited, how we’d been kissing outside the barn when the kids discovered us because we wouldn’t be able to kiss at midnight.

“Wow,” she said. “So it was just really bad timing, huh?”

“Yes.” I fit my thumbnails together. “But maybe it was meant to happen like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was probably crazy to think about a new relationship so fast anyway. I need to focus on getting the kids in school, finding a house, getting a job . . .”

“I thought you were going to work in the winery. That’s what Chloe said last night, that she was going to start training you to take over as manager.”

I shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I’d like that, but I’m not sure if Henry will want me around.”

Frannie was silent for a moment, and I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye.

“Does that mean you’re completely breaking things off with him?”

“I have to.”

“Because of Whitney?”