The way that West looked at her. West loved her.

Sammy had never been particularly drawn to romantic love. For obvious reasons. Her experience with it—with her parents’ marriage—had put her off.

She liked to have a good time; that much was true. She gravitated toward men who had a light, easy approach to life.

But it was all starting to feel a little bit...

She felt achy. She felt like she wanted more. The fight with her mother today had made it feel even more stark, and the vague longing had started to feel crystallized earlier.

You’re not a mother. You don’t understand.

You’d be a terrible mother anyway.

It was insane.

Except it kept coming up in her mind, again and again, and she kept dismissing it because it was crazy. Absolutely and completely crazy.

She came out of her deep thoughts just in time to key in to Ryder giving a toast to the newly engaged couple.

“To West and Pansy,” he said.

“Thank you,” West said, grinning.

“If you hurt my sister, I’ll rearrange that pretty face of yours into something no one would ever recognize as human. Count on it.” He said it with a smile.

“I believe you,” West said.

“Good,” Ryder responded. “You ought to.”

Ryder was teasing. Well, kind of.

Ryder was protective. He always had been.

It was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

And seeing it now, seeing it play out with Pansy made her feel... He was so sure and solid. Everything here was sure and solid. For the longest time her only goal had been to have a family.

She had made something of a family with the Daniels. More than something. They were better than the one she had been born into, that was for sure. But... Pansy had broken off and now she was making a life for herself, and it reminded Sammy that she was no closer to doing that.

And you want something to change.

She did.

She was doing really well with her handmade jewelry business. Online marketplaces and an interest in craft fairs had done very well for Sammy. She had something of her own.

She wasn’t dependent. Not anymore. But... Well, but.

It was her mother. The sameness of her mother combined with the accusations her mother had spit out.

Sammy’s mother was the same as she always had been. Brittle and angry, her skin pulled too tightly over her bones. Committed to misery and bad decisions, when before the death of her father Sammy had been convinced she’d been committed to him.

But her father had died five years ago. A heart attack. Which felt right. A heart ill-used, turned hard and scarred. A heart that allowed the abuse of a child. That didn’t burn at all when he’d turned his rage and fists on the little girl she’d been.

It seemed right a heart like that would give out early. Poisoned by the spite that surrounded it.