“No, it wasn’t because of the test.” My chest tightened. Something about her assumption bothered me. It reminded me of how I’d chosen to give stupid excuses about not going out, not socializing at parties. Throughout my four years of college, I’d huddled inside my comfort zone, spending any spare time that wasn’t consumed by study or work or blog to log on to games and lose myself in them. Because it was safe, known. Because there would be few surprises and anything that could happen, I would be ready for.
I dropped my head against the back of the ripped couch, gazing at the ceiling. Adam was right. I really was a coward.
Chapter Sixteen
When the going gets tough, the tough go running home to Mommy. And after commencement, I did just that. I packed up what I could and I hit the road for Anza—a two-hour drive down some of the most remote stretch of highway through the Inland Empire and beyond. My car twisted along the road upward into the Cahuilla Mountains that overlooked the much more famous Californian resort town of Palm Springs.
And as I wound up that narrow two-lane highway into the hills, a measure of calm settled over me. I grew assured that things would be all right in the end. That this pain was temporary and like the dying sunlight of that day, would fade away to nothing. Someday. Sometime.
But it didn’t feel temporary. I felt changed, somehow, as if my life, my heart would never be the same. They say life’s experiences change you—that your brain grows new neural pathways in response to trauma and new lessons learned. I wondered how many pathways I was going to get from this. If I was ever going to learn my way around it. And in this moment, I felt more resolved than ever to protect myself—keep myself dependent on only myself. Because I was the only person in this world I could be sure of. I could be sure of Heath, until he met someone new and could hardly be prevailed upon to fix my eternal string of scrapes. I could depend on my mom, but as the experiences of the previous few years had shown me, she might not always be around. Her near-death had shaken me to my core and showed me that nothing was permanent.
But one thing was permanent. Me. My ambition. My drive. The fortress wall I’d built around my heart and kept vigilant watch over. And I’d spend this time reinforcing, repairing the weak spots that had allowed Adam inside to do his damage.
I had no idea how much Heath had told Mom while they’d sat together at commencement. I know she had no knowledge of the auction, but Heath could have couched his description of my time with Adam as a relationship without mentioning all the ways it was sick and twisted between us. Mom had known I was seeing someone, but she had no details, like the fact that her daughter had willfully sought a way to prostitute herself.
Our little ranch sat on fifteen acres of high desert scrubland. The main house, which my mother called the homestead, had many guest rooms on the top floor. There were also three matching little cabins that shouldered up to the homestead for guests who wanted more privacy. The main dining room in the home was huge, to accommodate the Bed and Breakfast crowd. Until her illness, Mom had run a fairly successful business, with many regular repeat guests coming up to spend time away from civilization, go hiking or ride our horses. My mood relaxed, as I looked down over our spread in the pale light of early evening under a golden high desert moon.
Mom didn’t question me too closely when I got home. She snatched me up in a big hug and made my favorite dinner—kabobs and hummus and baklava for dessert. Mom instructed me to get an early night’s sleep and warned me that we had a lot to discuss in the morning. Relieved, I fell into my bed, exhausted.
The next morning, I was out in the stables saying hello to my favorite four-legged friends. My horse, Snowball, greeted me with an excited whicker. He’d been my best friend since the fourth grade and his muzzle was aging and gray now, but he still snapped up the carrots I offered him with all due enthusiasm.
At lunch, I munched my garden-fresh cucumber and tomato sandwich on rustic bread as my mom tossed furtive glances my way. I knew she was dying to ask me about my relationship status with the mystery guy and trying to find ways to bring it up, so I decided to head her off.
“So you said you had some surprises for me. Do they have anything to do with the restoration of the cabins?”
Mom gave me an expectant look. “So you noticed?”
“I’d have to be blind not to. Did you win the lottery and not tell me?”
She laughed. “Kind of. If getting cancer could be considered a lottery.”
I sobered, suddenly my heart raced with fear and I could feel the blood drain from my face. “What? Is it back?”