Oh, I saw where she was going with this. I nodded.
“And if you worried about Gideon or Rachel or Cammy, wouldn’t you try to protect them too? That’s part of what love is…and Gideon loves you. No, he shouldn’t have kept the party from you, and yes, you absolutely deserve the right to make your own decisions. There are boundaries the two of you need to discuss, but every relationship has those, not just yours. You’ve always wanted to live a normal life, whatever your definition of normal is. I don’t like that word at all, but that’s what you wanted, and that’s what you have. Couples fight, people screw up, and sometimes people we love hurt us, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love us or…oh.”
With that one last word, I knew Mom was seeing her own situation with Wilma and Gene. Wilma had hurt her, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t loved her. Wilma was gone, yes, but Mom could still make her peace with her and hear her story.
“Adulting sucks,” I said, and she chuckled.
“Yes, it does.”
“But it’s kind of amazing too, isn’t it?”
Mom smiled. “Yes, it is. And so are you.” She reached over and held my hand.
“Do you really think Gideon loves me? He’s never said it.”
“I do, but maybe you should talk to him about that. Have you told him you love him?” I shook my head. “And that doesn’t mean you don’t, so buck up. Go talk to your man and tell him how you feel.”
She was…God, she was the absolute best. “I love you.” I scooted closer and pulled Mom into a hug.
“I love you too, Milo. More than anything in this world. And I’m so damn happy for you. You’ve built a beautiful life here. The place I always felt stifled me is the one that has helped set you free.”
It had. Life was funny that way sometimes. I’d never thought I totally knew who I was or what I wanted, and through her love for my mom, Wilma had helped me find myself…in a bookstore, on an island, with my tattoo guy and my best friend Rachel, her daughter, Cammy, with Gene and Gideon’s family too. I had those people because of Wilma.
“We’re so alike, you and I. We don’t want to need anyone, but make sure that stubbornness doesn’t cause you to miss out on life the way I let it.”
“It’s never too late to change, Mom.”
“I suppose it’s not.” She swiped at a couple of stray tears. “If I expect you to be brave and put your faith in people, I guess I should too. Maybe tomorrow you and I can go see Gene. The two of you can tell me about Wilma.”
I smiled. “I’d like that. He would too.”
Mom nodded, straightened her spine, and I knew the emotional stuff was over for her. “Now maybe you should go home and talk to that boyfriend of yours.”
“I will.” I practically bounced to my feet. “Thank you. You’re the best mom ever, and I love you, even though you annoy me sometimes.”
Mom laughed. “I love you, even though you annoy me sometimes too.”
“I need to order a car. I’m going home…to tell Gideon I love him.”
I’d still give him a piece of my mind, though, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Gideon
Was it ridiculous that I sat on the couch with my cell in my hand, trying to will a text message from Milo? Because that’s exactly what I was doing.
Can I come see you, please? I’d sent it an hour ago, and still no response. Not hearing from him was eating me alive.
I wanted to tell him I was sorry and that I loved him.
I wanted to tell him about talking to Dad and Orlando.
Basically, I just wanted him.
My eyes shot to the door when I heard a key in the lock. It opened just as I pushed to my feet, and there he was, his hair actually messy like he’d run his fingers through it in nerves or frustration.
“Hi,” I said.
“I need to take off my pants for this.”
I grinned, struggled to breathe slightly because my chest swelled so big. “Listen, I—”
“Gideon! Don’t talk yet! Let me finish.”
God, he was ridiculous and adorable, and I loved him so fucking much.
I waited while he took his shoes off, then his socks, and finally his pants. He stood straight before sighing, his shoulders rising and lowering in a dramatic shrug. “I’ve never had a fight with a boyfriend before.”
“I’ve never done such a dumbass thing as a boyfriend before.”
“Gid,” he said softly, walking over to me. “I understand why you did what you did. I’m your best friend and your boyfriend, and you didn’t want to see me get hurt. I want to protect you when I can too, but there are some things we can’t shield each other from. You can’t handpick every social interaction we have. You can’t shelter me from every possible uncomfortable situation. This is my life. This is who I am. And if we’re going to be together—and I really, really want us to be together—then you have to respect that. You have to give me a choice.”