“I know I do,” Roni said softly. “But I’m not as convinced as you are that Quincy isn’t that person. I feel so much for him, and I truly believe that he’s a good person. I feel it in my bones. I know your points are valid. I’m not trying to convince myself otherwise. I’m just being honest with you. On one hand, even after hearing all of it, I’m still falling for him. And on the other hand, I’m terrified of what that could mean. I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not sweeping the reality of what recovery means under the carpet. From what I’ve heard, and it sounds like from what he told you, it’s a forever thing.”

“He drilled that, and the fact that he can’t promise me anything, into my head. Even if he wanted to promise, you and I both know that there are no guarantees in life. Look at what happened to me. My life changed in an instant.”

Angela took her hand and said, “It sounds like his did, too.”

“Does it really sound that way to you?” Roni sighed. “I guess that makes sense. You grew up here in Peaceful Harbor, with a big backyard and friends in all the surrounding houses, and two parents who went to work from nine to five and loved you with everything they had. You’ve never had to run home from a bus stop out of fear or heard gunshots outside and wondered if they’d make their way into your home. To me, it sounded like Quincy’s life was a ticking time bomb. When he told me about his childhood, it broke my heart. I don’t know how he and Truman stayed out of trouble for all those years. I had my grandmother telling me who to stay away from, but they had no adults to guide them.”

“Clearly Truman focused on keeping his little brother alive, and as they grew up, they had each other.”

“Until they didn’t,” Roni said sadly.

Angela put her arm around Roni and said, “I will support whatever you decide. Just promise me that you won’t sell yourself short.”

“The funny thing is, I feel like I was selling myself short until I let him into my life.”

RONI MOVED THROUGH the afternoon vacillating between wanting to text Quincy and not wanting to open that door until she understood what it really meant to be in recovery. She’d skipped lunch and gone up to her apartment, where she’d googled everything she could think of on the topics of drug addiction, recovery, and the percentage of people who relapsed. Just reading about the process of recovery had made her anxious. She took solace in the fact that Quincy had actually made it through to the other side. But that didn’t mean Angela’s worries weren’t pecking at that solace like crows at roadkill all freaking day.