My locket is tucked inside, along with a handwritten note:

It’s still beating.

You’re still okay.

And I still love you.

— Dean

The words blur through my tears as I choke on a sob. I reach into the envelope and pull out the familiar, golden chain with a trembling hand, pressing the envelope between my knees as I fasten the necklace behind my hair. The pendant falls between my breasts, heart to heart, and I smile at the feel of the tiny weight against my chest. Then I press my fingertips to my ribs and close my eyes, letting my heartbeat vibrate through me and fill me with peace.

Love is so many things I never thought about, never expected, never knew… and one of those things is being the best version of yourself you can possibly be, no matter how many obstacles stand in your way. No matter how dark, how hard, or how painful the road to recovery may be. No matter how many blows or setbacks try to drag you back down into the mud.

We can’t give our heart to another without loving our own first.

And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

Chapter Thirty-Two

E I G H T M O N T H S L A T E R

I’m grateful for the mild November, so I can still get on my bike and feel the breeze hit my face as my hair whips around me, tickling my nose.

It’s the little things that make me smile.

I pull up to the quaint, downtown coffee shop, locking my bicycle to the metal rack and smoothing down my windblown hair. It’s been an exhausting week at work, wrapping up first quarter assignments and prepping for exams before we head into Thanksgiving break. I’ve been looking forward to our monthly coffee date ever since my alarm clock tore me from an idyllic dream this morning, consisting of sand in my toes and his laughter dancing off each rippling wave.

I shake the reverie away, adjusting my sweater dress and plucking a rebel leaf from my knee-high boot. I sling my purse strap over one shoulder and push through the entry door, casing the small café for my dates.

“Cora!”

I glance to my left, spotting them in a corner booth, and I wave with a smile. “Sorry I’m late,” I say, still slightly out of breath from the five mile trek. “I hopped on my bike last minute—the weather was too nice.”

Tabitha beams up at me as I approach the cozy booth. “Only you could pull off looking like a movie star after a twenty-minute cardio session.”

“Hardly. I flashed a dozen people on the way over and ate half my hair,” I tease. I tug my V-neck sweater dress down, regretting the fashion choice, as I slip into the seat. I shift my gaze to baby Hope, who is still secured inside her car seat, playing with the dangling rattles and toys in front of her. “She’s getting so big.”