I smile. “I taught him that,” I say, and I look over at my father, who just smiles as he remembers teaching me the same thing. “He really is great,” I say, my chest filling with this enormous pride that I didn’t even know was there. I look over at him, and it just clicks into place. Everything was there. I knew that I liked what we had, and I knew that it was special. What I didn’t know was that I would do whatever I needed to protect it. Now I just have to convince his mother.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Caroline

For the whole day, I am on pins and needles. I keep coming up with excuses on how to bail for tonight, but Dylan is with him. I pick up the phone no less than one hundred times an hour, phrasing a text, but in the end, I never send anything.

“You look like you are ready to crawl out of your skin,” Cheryl says when she pokes her head into my office at two o’clock.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m meeting Justin’s family tonight,” I say, and she comes in smiling.

“How exciting.” She sits down in one of the empty chairs. I look toward the window, seeing the sun outside shining.

“It’s just …” I start to say and she crosses her arms over her chest. She is wearing one of her long white flowy skirts with a bright pink top.

“It’s just that you don’t think that you fit in.” She finishes the sentence for me. “You aren’t worthy.” She doesn’t stop either. “That he deserves to have better.”

“Pretty much.” I lean back in the chair. My legs shake, and my fingers strum. “We are from two totally different worlds.”

“See, that is where I think you’re wrong,” she says, and I look at her. “You are not that different. Do you smoke?” I shake my head. “Does he?” Again, I shake my head. “Do you do drugs?” I roll my eyes. “You see where I’m going with this.”

“Okay, I’m not a drug addict,” I start.

“You are in this place because you fell in love with a man,” she says.

“I don’t know if I ever really loved him,” I tell her. “I was seventeen when I got pregnant, eighteen when I had Dylan. My parents kicked me out, and he took me in. How do you know what love is at that age?”

“Exactly.” She raises her eyebrows. “You are a survivor. That is what you are. You are doing what you are doing for your child, which makes you just like everyone else in the world.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll remember that tonight when I look around and feel like I want the earth to swallow me up.”

“You do that,” she says, getting up. “See you Sunday.”