My mother is trying to be upbeat, but it’s forced.

“I thought we could go to your apartment,” Mom says, trying a weak smile. “I haven’t seen it.”

I’ve always been nervous to show her my modest home, knowing she would feel guilty for all the things she could never provide after Dad left. I’m tempted to drag her there now, to show her what I’ve scraped together without her help. But it would feel like a violation of my personal space now, because even if I forgive Mom, I’ll never allow my father back in my life.

Not even if he got on his knees and begged.

“My home isn’t close,” I say, deliberate with my words. With my father back in the house, it’s unlikely my childhood home will ever be more than a distant memory.

“It would be nice to see Renee,” she says.

My eyes shimmer. “She doesn’t live there anymore.” I swallow hard. “She moved out. Right after I told her about Dad.”

Mom folds her napkin and sets it on the table. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Why did you take him back, Mom?” I say, diving in. I drop my voice to a harsh whisper, aware we’re in a crowded restaurant. “After everything he’s done to us…to you. I don’t get it.”

Mom’s smile slips a little. “It’s complicated, Liv.”

I toss my napkin on the table and lean back in the chair, arms crossed. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

She reaches across the table, grasping for my hand. I keep them tucked into my chest, unwilling to give her what I know we both crave—the connection that bound us in hard times. I need her now, more than I can admit.

My thoughts turn to Mason and another flash of anger goes through me. “Dad left you for another woman,” I say, as if she’s somehow forgotten my dad’s list of sins. “Had a child with someone else, while you were still married.”

“We got together when we were young,” Mom says. “We were just kids. How could we have known what we wanted back then?”

I resist the knee-jerk instinct to call Mom on her bullshit. My parent’s origin story is pretty much a fairytale—high school sweethearts, pregnant right out of college, first house, first car. It got messy, Dad left.

Who ever heard of a second chance at Happily Ever After with your original prince?

Mason’s words come back to haunt me. I swallow a sip of water and stare at the bartender at the back of the room. He flips a cocktail glass over on the counter, tosses two bottles of colored liquid in the air, catches them, and pours a drink, which he then lights on fire. Figures Mom would choose this place, a restaurant known for its smoke and mirrors.

“You should have fought harder,” I say, blinking through tears. “Before he left. Why didn’t you know something was wrong in your relationship?”

Did she miss the signs?

“Liv, is something else bothering you?”

I avert my gaze. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” I cup my hands around the warm coffee cup, and run my thumb over the ridge. “What about that guy…Larry, or whatever? He seemed nice.”

Mom cracks a huge grin. “Now I know something is bothering you,” she says, chuckling. “You hated him.”

Hate is probably too strong a word, but Mom’s right—he wasn’t exactly a Knight in Shining Armor. Seems that particular kind of guy is in short supply these days, no matter what the movies portray. Still, Larry didn’t cheat, and he didn’t try to be someone he wasn’t.

Mom leans forward and waits for me to look up. When our eyes meet, I find the mom I’ve missed, and it almost brings me to tears. “Come on sweetie,” she says. “Tell me what’s going on.”

My resolve cracks and I spill everything about Mason—laying it all on the table for her to judge, to assess. She listens carefully, occasionally interrupting with a question, or to soothe with a comforting word. I leave out the personal stuff, and the Mason’s secrets—I would never betray his trust—but I don’t hold back when it comes to my feelings.

“I love him,” I say, sobbing into my sleeve.

Mom takes my hand in hers and rubs her thumb over my skin. “It’s going to be okay,” she says. “Whatever happens, you will be okay.”

“I don’t want to take him back,” I say, though I’m not totally convinced. If my mom’s indecision has taught me anything it’s that I don’t need Mason—or any man—to feel whole. I deserve more than he can give. “But damn it, Mom. Why does love to hurt so much? Why can’t it be enough?”

My mom squeezes my hand. “I understand. I do. Because I love your father, Liv. So very much.” She tilts her head a little and smiles. “And for me, that’s enough.”

I stare into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. But all I see is her happiness, shining through the pain of seeing her only daughter hurt. “What if he leaves again?”

She shrugs. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”

“You don’t have to,” she says. “He has to earn that.”

I drop my gaze, and draw circles on the condensation that has formed on my water glass. The shape morphs into a distorted heart. Absently, I draw a line through it, splitting it in half. “Are you sure he can make you happy?”

Mom laughs. “No, but I’m sure as hell going to make him try.” She reaches across the table and lifts my chin. “He’s the only man I’ve ever wanted, Liv.”

I allow a small smile to slip past my lips. “Then I guess that’s good enough for me, mom.”

* * *

The silence in my apartment is so intense I almost wish for the incessant noise of Heavy Metal Craig’s music. I cradle my cell in my lap, willing it to ring. It takes all my willpower to not call Renee, to text Mason.

I can’t give in.

But the thought of seeing him every day at the office makes my stomach churn. I’m strong enough to let him go, but I need space. I type up my resignation letter, and carefully fold it into thirds. I slip it into an envelope and write his name on the front.

I can accept my mother’s decision to go back to Dad—it’s her life. But I won’t repeat her past. No doubt I’m in love with Mason. But for me, love just isn’t enough.