Tears track my cheeks in quiet streams, and I roll onto my back with a deep breath. “He left, Mom. He said he was holding me back from healing, so he took a job transfer in Bloomington, just to get away from me. He claimed it was because he loved me, but that doesn’t make any sense…” Those quiet tears turn loud as reality hits me once again. “I don’t know how to get through this without him.”

Her arms tuck around me once more, pulling me in. “Cora, sweetheart… love doesn’t exist without sacrifice. Sometimes those sacrifices are waking up ten minutes early to make your partner coffee. Sometimes it’s taking on a second job to support your family. Sometimes it’s staying up all night with a newborn so your significant other can finally sleep. Sometimes it’s shoveling the other person’s car out of the driveway after a snowstorm.” She places her palm against my wet cheek and smiles softly. “And sometimes it’s making the ultimate sacrifice and walking away for the greater good.”

I shake my head through the gut wrenching sobs. “I don’t want to be the ultimate sacrifice. I want to be the coffee one.”

“Oh, honey.” My mother holds me tight, a chuckle slipping out. “You need to think of it as an act of love, and not as an act of betrayal. And I think you should take this time to do some soul searching and put the pieces of your life back together. I’m here to help with whatever you need, and so is your dad. This isn’t necessarily an end… think of it as your chance to start over.”

I sniffle, thinking back to my final conversation with Dean in my living room last Friday.

Thinking back to that look in his eyes when I returned the locket—the most precious gift I’ve ever received—and hurled my angry words at him. That was our final moment together. Our last dance. And I allowed my demons to take over and strike him down when he was hurting just as much as I was.

Maybe my mother is right. Maybe this is all about love.

Maybe love is singing her favorite song in the dark, just so she can sleep. Maybe love is giving away the shoes on your feet to help keep her warm. Maybe love is coming over in the middle of the night when the power goes out because you know she’s afraid of the dark.

And maybe love is walking away because it’s the only way she’ll find the light again.

I wanted to believe our situation was the reason our feelings changed—shifted and swayed like a high tide. But feelings like this cannot be built in the course of three weeks. They are created over time, blooming and growing, manifesting into something bigger than us both.

Our ordeal may have opened a door, but it opened a door that was already cracked. Dean and I have always had a connection—a unique chemistry. It was disguised with banter and jokes, hostile words and silly pranks, but there was always something. And if I were to play the last fifteen years out like a film reel in my mind, I’d see the signs. I’d notice the things I’d blatantly ignored due to circumstances, ignorance, and our battle of wills.