My mom goes quiet, looking down at the small diamond on her right hand—the original engagement ring my dad got her when they were in college.

“It wasn’t always easy. There were several—”

“I know,” I say. I lived through the blips—Dad had a bad habit of working too much, and Mom didn’t have great boundaries with her family. “I know your life wasn’t always sunshine and roses. But I also know that when you were sixteen years old, you knew he was the one. When you know, you know, right?”

Another sigh, but this time, she’s acknowledging that I’m right.

“The thing is, Mom, none of that matters if the knowing is one sided.”

“Are we talking about Kate?”

“No,” I say, too quickly. But then I meet her eyes, so full of love and understanding. “Maybe.”

But it’s not Kate, specifically—I got over her years ago. What I’m not over is how it felt. The sickening realization that the person I’d given my heart to didn’t want it. And the way it made me question everything I thought I knew about love.

“Here you go,” our waitress says, setting our plates on the table.

I’m grateful for the distraction, although I know it’s temporary. It would take someone bleeding out on the floor to distract Merrie Lawson from making her point.

“Your beautiful heart has always been one of your biggest gifts,” Mom says, once the waitress has left.

“And one of my biggest curses,” I say, shoveling a bite in my mouth.

“I wasn’t finished. You were so open to love when you were young. In fact, the first time you told me you’d met the girl you were going to marry, you were in third grade.”

“So you’re telling me this bad judgment is a lifelong pattern?”

“No, I’m telling you that these ups and downs are part of your journey—it’s growth, not failure. Every time your heart was broken, it healed even stronger. But after Kate you just…”

“Stopped trying,” I say, setting down my fork. I’ve lost my appetite.

“Listen, sweetheart—I know your dad makes it sound like our story was love at first sight. And it might have been for him; I was pretty cute back then. But you should know that he asked me out every week for four months before I said yes. And even then, I only did it so he’d stop asking.”

I sit up straighter; she did not just say that.

“You’re telling me the story at the heart of our family is a lie?”