“Murph!” Harley presses, his gruff voice booming throughout the silence of my tiny house.

I reluctantly meet his eyes, folding my arms over my chest, considering him for a moment. “Do you wanna know what I’ve been thinking about all night?”

He stares at me, blinking once, offering an uncertain shrug.

“I’ve been thinking if Momma never got sick, I never would’ve had to drop out of college. And if I never dropped out of college, then maybe I’d be the woman marrying Nash …” I shake my head at my own words, ashamed to have said them out loud.

The hard look in Harley’s eyes softens a little, and he takes a tentative step forward, glancing away as if in serious thought, as if my confession really affects him, and I know it does, because it’s been his shoulders I’ve spent the last five years crying on.

“Me and him were so happy together after we left for college. Our lives were perfect. Everything was working out just how we’d always planned,” I continue. “And then I get a phone call to tell me she has stage-four breast cancer?” I scoff, shaking my head once again at that memory. “I had to drop out, come home, look after her and the bakery, every damn thing. All for what? For nothing. Because she died anyway. Just like that.”

I look down at the floor as sadness overwhelms me, but I don’t cry. I cried all my tears for Momma when she left me. And, I’m not even sad anymore. I’m angry. Angry that I was left all alone. Angry that I got stuck with the mortgage and the doctor bills I couldn’t afford. Angry that I lost everything I worked so hard for. College is all I ever wanted, but it was taken away from me, and now it’s nothing more than a distant memory. Something I almost had. Of course, I miss my mother. I always will. I’m just angry. I have been for five long years.

A heavy silence ensues, settling thick in the air between us.

“You know,” Harley starts, his voice a little softer. “I lost everything, too. I was All-American. A five-star recruit. Hell, I was the nation’s number-one high school quarterback, for God’s sake. I had it all. I was a sure shot for the NFL draft …” He exhales a heavy breath, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he looks down at his hands. “Then I had to go and blow not one, but both my damn knees during the season opener of sophomore year.” He shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “I couldn’t afford tuition on my own, so I had to drop out of college, too. I know all about losing everything, Murph, and it sure does hurt like a kick to the teeth.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, watching him as he continues.

“Life is nothing more than eighty, maybe ninety years of shitty circumstances all tied in together.” He stares into my eyes. “But I still don’t understand why the hell I’m suddenly your boyfriend!” He throws his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh.