“No. I had to work late and got caught up talking to my boss on the way out. What’s up?”

I heard her sigh as one of the kids screamed in the background.

“Did you talk to Mom this week?”

Considering my week had been crazy and spent alternately punishing and berating myself over Nash, no, my mom has not been on my radar.

“No. I was busy. Why, did something happen to her?”

My parents had been married for over thirty years, twenty-five of them happily. At some point, while I was gone and Faith was starting a family, my dad had decided that being home alone with my mother was no fun. Unbeknownst to any of us, he had started seeing his much-younger dental assistant who worked with him at his practice. The marriage had struggled on until my mom couldn’t take the infidelity and insult anymore. As a result a seriously contentious and ugly divorce started two years ago. It was drawn out, filled with hate and bickering, and had turned my parents not only against each other but practically into strangers to Faith and me. That was the other reason I came home. I wanted my mom back.

My mom wanted us to have nothing to do with my dad. She was angry, irrational, and all her focus had been on Faith and the kids. It was driving my sister bananas, and after one too many teary and desperate phone calls, I had applied at Denver Health Medical Center and had come home to help out and try and minimize the damage. My mom was on the brink of a meltdown. I could see it coming like speeding lights at the other end of the tunnel, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do to prevent it. She was self-medicating, taking pills and drinking her weight in wine to try and deal with the hurt. It sucked for all of us because even though my dad’s actions hurt us all, it was impossible just to cut him entirely out of our lives, and that drove my mom crazy.

“Yes, something happened. One of the neighbors called me to let me know that the fire department was out at the house. Apparently she went to the backyard and put all the old family photos in the barbecue and decided to burn them.”

I groaned and made my way to the parking lot where my car was.

“Seriously?”

Faith exhaled and I could hear how tired she was. “Yeah. The fire got out of control because of the wind and the amount of lighter fluid she used. It caught part of the backyard on fire. I guess it wouldn’t have been a huge deal if Mom had reacted, tried to put water on it or something, but the neighbor said she just stood there and watched it burn while laughing like a lunatic until the fire department arrived. She could have burned the entire neighborhood down. The homeowners’ association isn’t happy.”

She hollered something at one of the kids and muttered something at her husband while I got in the car and turned on the engine.

“She’s going off the deep end, Saint, and I don’t know how to stop it. She’s going to end up in a mental ward or in jail if we don’t figure something out. She’s gone from a handful to a menace. What if she tries to hurt herself?”

I had to crank the radio off when a Band of Skulls song came blasting out as the car started. I turned up the heat and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel.

“I’m off on Thursday. I’ll go and talk to her.”

“Oh, Saint, don’t. It just makes both of you upset. I just needed to vent to someone. I’m so tired of both of them.”

“This is so sad, Faith. Someone needs to try and talk some sense into her. So she got dumped, it’s not the end of the world. I know she took Dad’s cheating really hard, is having a hell of a time with the new girlfriend, but she really needs to stop it and move on. We did.” I think it had been easier for me because I never really had any expectations of a man ever being able to be faithful to one woman.

Faith snorted and I heard the connection rustle as she shifted the phone from one shoulder to another.

“Says the girl who let one mean boy spoil her on love for the last eight years. Face it, Saint, the women in this family do not deal well with heartache.”

I must have made an involuntary noise because her voice got sharp when she asked, “Did you see him again?”

I blew a breath out between my teeth and closed my eyes and let my head flop back on the seat. I never should have mentioned running into Nash when he came to pick up Rome after that bar fight a few months ago. All I wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, and wash this day down the drain.

“He has a family member in the oncology unit at the hospital. I’ve run into him a couple times.”

She made a growling noise in the back of her throat that had me chuckling at the protective gesture.

“Did you tell him to go to hell?”

Faith had long thought that I needed to tell Nash off, tell him how horrible his careless words had felt, and leave the damage he had done firmly at his door. She thought he was a thorn in my side that needed to just be yanked out quick and clean.

“No. I pretty much just turn into a mime around him. I just gape at him and stare at him awkwardly until he gets uncomfortable and goes away.”

She laughed a little and I heard her husband ask her a question.

“It really is too bad he didn’t gain a bunch of weight or come down with some weird flesh-eating disease that made him hideous to look at.”

I drew a heart on the fog in the window with my index finger.

“No. He still looks really good, better than he did in high school, just a lot more tattooed … and you know, built.” He was ridiculously handsome, and those eyes … God, those eyes were made to drop panties.

“That sucks and you shouldn’t be noticing that. You should be telling him to eat shit and die. Stay away from him, Saint. For your own good. Look, I have to go. Justin needs me to watch the kids while he finishes dinner.”

“I’ll give you a ring after I talk to Mom.”

“Ugh, all right. I still think that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” Her confidence was overwhelming, but I needed to make sure my mother hadn’t really gone too far over the edge in her heartbreak.

“Probably, but it has to be done. Kiss the kids for me.”

“I will. Seriously, Saint, steer clear of Nash Donovan. I don’t think your heart ever mended from the first time he stomped on it.”

I told her good-bye and tossed the cell on the passenger seat next to me.

She was right. My heart had never been the same after everything he had put it through. Even if he hadn’t known I had feelings for him, even if he had come across as a nice guy for a few fleeting encounters, the way he had blindly destroyed all that was just unforgivable, even now.

Once I had gone off to college and got out on my own, things had started to change for me. The healthy California lifestyle changed my physical appearance, and the fact that no one out there knew who I was, didn’t know I was a nerd with no friends, made talking to people easier. It also made handling attention from boys not exactly easy, but manageable, and as such I started to date casually. Some of the guys I liked more than others, some I loosened up enough with to let them get past first base and even second, but it wasn’t until I took my first job at a hospital in Los Angeles and met a male nurse named Derek that I was comfortable enough, trusted someone enough, to actually go to bed with him.

We had dated for three months, he was nice, had the same passion for the medical and health-related field and helping others that I did, and he was really, really cute. He seemed to like me, like a lot. He told me over and over that he thought I was funny, smart, pretty, and fun to be around, and he never pushed me. Things had progressed naturally … one thing led to another, and we ended up in bed together. That was where the one and only relationship I had ever attempted to have fell apart. The idea of being naked, stripped down and exposed to anyone, terrified me. The thought of being judged and found lacking had me breaking out in hives and into a cold sweat. There was nothing romantic or sexy about a girl struggling through sex, crying all over you, and bolting for the door as soon as it was over.

But Derek had seemed like a wonderful guy and wanted to stay with me, wanted to work on it, and eventually wore me down to the point that I had agreed to give the entire relationship another try. Only sex never worked the way I wanted it to, really never went the way he wanted it to, and it wasn’t long before I found him in the arms of another one of the nurses on our rotation. Of course she wasn’t crying when I walked in on them at his apartment. The betrayal had stung and it had completely reinforced that I couldn’t really trust a guy, that they would always pick a sure bet over a girl with hang-ups and insecurities any day. Besides, Derek had always been way more into me than I was into him, and frankly, having an excuse to walk away when he seemed so nice and caring was actually a relief. It was exhausting trying to force it, to try and pretend like sex was getting better and more enjoyable … I didn’t blame him for wanting to take a girl that behaved normally to bed.

Moving forward, there had been a guy or two along the way who I had been interested enough in to try it out again with, thinking a one-night stand would be less pressure. I thought that if the guy didn’t know me, didn’t know how I worked, maybe I could keep the irrational fear of rejection and ugly judgment at bay. It never worked. I always felt sick and just wanted it to be over with, so after the second time I was called a frigid tease, I decided to stop trying to make something happen. I stopped thinking ordinary boy-girl stuff was in my future.

I didn’t blame Nash and what he had done entirely for all of my hang-ups. A lot of them were bred into me by simply being me. I was the odd one, the one that didn’t really fit. Faith was tall like I was, she also sported bright red hair, but hers was manageable and I don’t think she ever had a zit in her life. She was cheerful and popular, played volleyball, and was on all kinds of committees and in clubs. She was the perfect mix of both my parents and somehow still managed to be a sweet and delightful girl. No one seemed to know what to do with me, even at home, where I knew I was loved unconditionally. Even with that, in an effort to help, my parents put me on diet after diet, dragged me to dermatologist after dermatologist, and enrolled me in activity after activity, all of which just proved to be waste of money. I knew their intentions were good, that they wanted me to come out of my shell and live a full life, but all they succeeded in doing was making me feel inferior and awkward in my own skin.

Of course none of my issues had been helped when right about the time Derek had proved to me that men were not to be trusted, my dad had decided that he was bored with my mom and that he wanted to trade her in for a newer model. It didn’t matter that we were a loving, caring, rock-solid family unit that helped and supported each other. No, what mattered was a pair of perky boobs and a toothy smile that made him feel ten years younger. He didn’t think twice about breaking our family apart, and I was left with a bone-deep understanding that men always picked the easy choice. If you put a pretty girl, someone that was obtainable and glossy in front of them, their penis was ultimately going to make a choice for them, and that sucked.

Even though I knew he wasn’t for me, I had built an extravagant fantasy around who I thought Nash was back in the day. I liked that he was into art, thought the allure of him painting graffiti and being into tattoos and piercings was dangerous and cool. Most teenage girls did. I thought he was different, thought the way he interacted with me at our lockers made him above the way the rest of the typical teenage boys in our school treated me. When I found out how wrong I was, it had shattered me and just dug the pit where my sense of self and all the shattered pieces of confidence had fallen even deeper. It had taken becoming a nurse, finding a greater purpose, to enable me to go into that deep, dark hole and get all those fragments of myself out. I wasn’t entirely whole, but I was a far sight better off than I had been as a teenager.

Faith was right. Ford women didn’t deal well with heartache, and I was loath to admit that one drunken kiss from Nash had more of an effect on me, got more of a response out of me, than all three months of the gentle wooing Derek had offered me. I was shrewd enough to know that wasn’t good, and I needed to take Faith’s stern warning and steer clear of him. Nash Donovan wasn’t good for my sense of self or good for keeping my life in the neat and orderly, straightforward way it was running now.