Hating You, Loving You (Inked Hearts 4)

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You must care pretty deeply to want to protect him like this."

"Maybe."

"What if your roles were reversed? If he was sick? Would you walk away to keep from hurting?"

"Of course not."

"Why not?"

"Who would do that?"

"But you'd get hurt."

"So? Life is getting hurt. You'll never experience anything good if you're afraid of getting hurt."

Dad smiles. "You took the words out of my mouth, baby girl."

Chapter Forty

Chloe

Sleep eludes me. I toss and turn. I think about tests and promises and the look on Mom's face when she told us she was dying. The way my heart broke right there, then broke into a million smaller pieces as I watched her slip away.

Grief fills my memories as moonlight flows through the curtains.

But something changes when the sun breaks the horizon.

Orange streaks across the sky.

Dad's advice starts to make sense.

The ugly memories fall back to happy ones. The way Dad held Mom after they thought me and Gia were ups

tairs playing. The way they whispered each other promises. I'll love you forever, baby. I'm right here no matter what. Whatever you need, even if it hurts.

The night they celebrated their wedding anniversary in the hospital, him in a fancy suit, her in a standard issue hospital gown, white and cream cupcakes on plastic plates.

That perfect day he showed her toward the end. The tea room at the botanical gardens, the lush red roses unfurling for the sun, the flowering cherry trees blowing in the wind.

That look of peace in her eyes.

I didn't understand it when I was a kid. I was angry at the universe. I still am. But she had accepted it. She wasn't hurting anymore. She was savoring every last drop of life she had.

It's not like she was lucky to get cancer. I don't give a fuck that her illness made her appreciate what time she had left. There's no universe where it was a good thing.

But there's no way I'd trade never knowing my mother for never losing her.

And there's no way Dad would change a thing, if he could do it over.

And maybe…

I don't know.

I toss and turn until my alarm clock's beep grows too annoying to ignore. I strip, shower, dress, fix my hair and makeup. Today is a combat boots and dark eyeliner kind of day. Even if every day is a combat boots and dark eyeliner kind of day.

There. Perfect. I feel like shit, but I look badass. It's something.