The love of Rebecca Kingsley’s life had just shit his pants. Weston Robert Kingsley, whose middle name was chosen in honor of his grandfather, looked up from his aunt’s arms and cooed at her, and all Bex could do was smile. At thirteen days old Weston was absolutely charming, from his wrinkly old-man baby face to his tiny grasping fingers. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t Bex’s biological nephew and that he was the dark-haired birth child of a teen mom in New Mexico. Weston was forever hers, and she loved him unconditionally. The only time Bex had let love sweep over her like that had been with Gabe. But she couldn’t think about Gabe without the world cracking open, and her tiny, soft heart bleeding out. So she forced herself to forget him.

“Careful Bex. I think he’s quite taken with you,” Aderyn teased, swinging a burp cloth onto her shoulder and gesturing for the baby.

“The feeling’s mutual. But if you want to clean that stink bomb in his diaper, I’m not going to stop you.”

Aderyn smiled. “I’m going to take every dirty diaper I can get.” She lifted Weston into her arms and swept into the next room with the baby in tow, wafting a fine eau de poo.

Bex leaned back against the couch cushions. “It is surprising how stinky poop can be, given that literally one ingredient goes into making it.”

Sam indulged her with a smile. “The other day Weston had a poo-nami, and I swear I thought my face would go numb.”

“A poo-nami?”

“Yeah. It’s like a tsunami of poo. Straight into the shower for all of us.”

Bex smiled at her brother, so damn happy that he was getting to do this dad thing. She would ask how he’d been holding up with the late nights, but frankly, she’d been here for most of them so she knew he was doing as well as could be expected. Maybe the bar hours had been practice for a baby’s erratic schedule.

Sam’s face turned serious. “What are you doing here, Bex?”

“What do you mean?”

Ever since her brother and family had returned home from New Mexico, she had made it a habit to swing by their house after work each night. She folded laundry for them and threw together easy dinners so they would have something hot to eat. It was easier to avoid her place, to not have to see the memories of Gabe everywhere she looked.

Sam gestured around the house, which Bex had obsessively cleaned in her post-breakup haze. Other than the dirty diapers and the baby toys strewn about, it didn’t look like the home of new parents. Things were spotlessly organized, from Aderyn’s books, which Bex had color-coded, to Sam’s bar cart, which he had been less than enthusiastic to see organized by bottle shape.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you taking care of us like this, because I do. But shouldn’t you be with Gabe?”

Bex jutted out her chin. “I’m sure he’s fine. You guys need me right now.”

Sam shook his head, but before he could respond, Aderyn swept back into the room carrying three beers.

“Weston’s down for a nap,” she announced, handing off the bottles. She cracked one open and took a lip-smacking draw. “One of the perks of not breastfeeding? Mama doesn’t have to watch what she drinks.”

Bex’s wan smile didn’t match Dare’s teasing tone, but a knot of pain tightened her chest too much to breathe right.

Aderyn took another swig of her beer and leaned forward. “Since you’re here, Bex, Sam and I have something we’d like to discuss with you.”

Please not another comment about Gabe. She didn’t know how much more she could handle. “What’s that?”

Aderyn smiled. “We’d love for you to be Weston’s godmother.”

It took Bex a second, and the sound of rushing air filled in her ears. “His godmother?” Her stomach dropped, and her heart shot into her throat, her face going hot and horrible.

“Yeah, Bex.” Sam looked at her. “Why are you crying?”

She swiped at her face, and her hands came away wet. Oh god, how had that happened? She really was going to lose it. This week had been rougher than she’d ever expected.

“Glad you’re happy for the privilege,” Sam said. “But I think this might be considered an overreaction.”

Bex wiped at her tears. “It’s just…I’m honored,” she started. “But I can’t be his godmother.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“A godmother is supposed to protect the kid, take care of him and teach him how to be a decent human in this world.” She drew a shaky breath. “But everyone around me gets hurt. I couldn’t even make a relationship work with the one man who was absolutely perfect for me.”

Aderyn’s hand dropped to her knee. “What are you talking about?”

Bex filled them in on her breakup with Gabe, and on the fact that she’d dumped him ten minutes before the biggest event of his life, in case they were wondering how heartless she could be. How bad of an idea it would be to give her someone else to love who she’d be sure to sweep up in the ruin of her curse.

“And the worst part,” she said, setting her beer on the edge of the coffee table, “is I’m not even sick after all.” The doctor’s call had come in this afternoon, a reassurance that the lab results were okay the second time around. All her blood cell counts looked normal, and she was on the mend. Doctor Yamato had prescribed a healthy dose of bed rest, which Bex had studiously ignored.

It had been seven miserable days after her blood draw. Seven agonizing days after losing Gabe.

No, she thought bitterly. Not losing him. Pushing him away.

Aderyn and Sam exchanged a look. “I’m sorry, being healthy is the bad part?” Sam asked.

Bex waved her hands in the air, her voice pitched high and desperate. “This was all for nothing. But even if I hadn’t freaked out on Gabe, sooner or later I was still going to hurt him. Just because these results came in clear doesn’t mean I’m not going to get sick again, for real, in the future. I’m still predisposed to cancer.”

Aderyn set down her beer and gave her a long look. “We’ve talked about this. Do you think I stopped loving your brother just because he got cancer?”

Bex shot a guilty glance at Sam. “No.”

“So why would Gabe stop loving you?”

“He wouldn’t,” Bex said. She knew that much was true. Gabe’s affection was a forever kind of love. “But it’s not fair to him to be with me. I’m only going to pull him down.”

Now Aderyn got angry, her tiny shoulders stiff and high around her ears. “Sam is worthy of my love, whether he’s sick or not. And I’m just as worthy of receiving the love that he gives me.” Her eyes narrowed, and her face flushed. “And fuck, yes, it’s terrifying to think about losing him. But I can’t focus on that. I just want to celebrate each good moment. That’s what Gabe wants to do with you. You need to give him a chance. It’s his choice to assume whatever risk he wants.”

Sam reached for his wife’s hands and spoke quietly. “Maybe it was selfish of me to keep loving Aderyn, even when I was going through the worst of things. But if it was selfish, it went both ways. Dare was just as selfish in loving me. We partnered up, Bex, and loving each other was an agreement we made. Good and bad. You sign up for it all.”

That’s what Gabe had said, hadn’t he? We’re partners, Bex.

But she’d treated this whole thing like a solo affair. It’s what she’d always done.

“What I’m trying to say,” Sam said, “is you are a good, strong person with so much love to give.” He looked at his wife, who smiled back with tears in her eyes. “Go home and decide what you want to do. The godmother offer still stands. Just remember that your ability to love isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. Figure out your shit, Bex, and we’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

Bex faltered in the lobby of the Trailblazer Gallery, a piece of the gallery letterhead clutched in her hands. She’d read the note enough times that the paper was starting to rip along the creases, and the ink that spelled out her name had gone blurry from where her tears had dropped onto the paper.

She knew without looking that Gabe’s handwriting slashed across the stationery, slightly tilted down the page. You’re still invited. After all, you’re the star. Please come.

But she wasn’t anyone’s star. Didn’t he know that?

The invitation to the show had slipped into Bex’s mail this morning after Sam and Aderyn had asked her to be Weston’s godmother last night. It arrived alongside a UPS package addressed to Weston, and inside the box was a book of random facts. From Gabe, with love, it said on the inside cover. Because, of course, she needed another reason to cry.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Emma.”

Her friend squeezed her elbow. “That’s why I’m here for moral support. Anyway, it’s the last day of the show. It’s now or never.”

Bex took a deep breath. “What if I freak out? I mean, more than normal.”

Emma smiled, and Bex groaned. “Wait, are you going to remind me that that’s a normal thing too?” Bex asked.

Emma’s grin widened. “Nailed it. Just remember that you are a badass. You make so many people in your life and in your job happy on a regular basis. You are a fucking rockstar, pun intended.”

Bex gave a heavy sigh. “But what if we go inside and I lose my shit?”

Emma lanced her with a look. “Honey, you’ve already lost your shit. We’re here to collect it. Make you a nice little poo pile.”

Bex groaned. “You did not just compare my life to a poo pile.”

Emma shrugged. “You started it. I was just continuing the analogy.” Her face softened. “Come on. I’ll even hold your hand.”

“Fine,” Bex said. “I mean, if we’re already having the worst day ever, why not finish me off?”

They stepped through the doors of the gallery, and goosebumps rose on her skin.

Emma’s voice came out in a little puff of air. “Oh my god, Bex.”

“I know.”

Pictures of Bex filled the whole room—her at sunrise out in the desert, her in bed, laughing at something Gabe had said.

She took a step forward, and all the air left her lungs. Tears clouded her vision, and the whole room blurred into a display of color—orange and cream and deep, blue-green. It was all the colors of her—her red hair like fire, her freckles like a map. Her eyes and her skin and the soft, inviting pink of her lips.

She stood in the middle of a whole gallery of just how much Gabe loved her. And here, looking into her own smiling eyes, she could see how much she loved him back.

Oh god.

She needed to fix this.

Maybe it didn’t matter that she hadn’t won the design competition at work. After all, she couldn’t control Jeremy’s decision. She could always find another way to help her earn money for adoption fees, or for Weston’s college fund down the line. But she had done a shitty job handling the things she could control. She’d let fear run her life into a mess.

Bex looked away from the photographs, and her heart squeezed in her chest again.

She loved him.

And she was still scared. Hell, she was terrified. But that wasn’t going to be enough to stop her anymore. Sam and Aderyn were right, and if Gabe wanted to keep loving her, Bex was going to love him as much as she could.

“Emma,” she whispered, and her friend turned. “I have an idea.”