But it didn’t have to be. The curse could stop here with me.
Step out of the history that is holding you back. Step into the new story you are willing to create.
Jude’s voice reciting the Oprah Winfrey quote whispers inside my head. It’s always been one of my favorites. Mainly because all these years, I thought I was doing just that; I prided myself on leaving my history behind, not letting it hold me back. I believed I was creating my own present and future. But standing here in front of my father with the little girl warring with the emotionally scarred adult, I can no longer refute the truth. I’ve been letting the past control me, influence my decisions to the point that I’ve hobbled myself.
When people get too close, I erect walls, keeping them out. When people want intimacy, I give them sex and show them the door.
When people—Jude—offers me forever, I run, believing I’m only worthy of “right now.” And afraid of reaching for more.
It’s not too late to change. It can’t be.
Because I’m damn sure not the lost, hope-battered woman I was when Jude walked into The Rabbit Hole and sat at my booth. He’s shown me kindness, selflessness, acceptance; even when my blood family couldn’t or wouldn’t sacrifice for me, he did, sharing his own space with me and demanding nothing in return.
I arrived in Chicago disillusioned. Wounded. And he tended to each bruise, restored some of my faith in people. I still have a ways to go, but without the example he set for me, I would’ve remained the cynical woman with a poisoned spirit. His goodness, his…love has lanced that sore, his heart a balm healing what time couldn’t.
Out of panic and fear, I’d convinced myself Jude wanted me to give up my freedom, my future for him; I lied to myself to justify me walking away. When the bald, deal-with-it truth is he wasn’t asking me to give up my future—just share it with him.
Share my life with him.
A shiver ripples through me.
Because along with this revelation comes another one fast on its heels.
I want to. More than a murky future, more than my lonely pride, more than my fear of being abandoned, I want that life with him.
“I hope it’s not too late to change,” Dan says, either echoing my thoughts, or more likely, I’d voiced them aloud. “Or to try and correct my wrongs, even a little bit. Which is why I brought up your mother.” He pauses, running his fingers over the knuckles of his other hand, a nervous tell I remember from years ago. Funny how I’m just recalling that. “I’ve spoken to your Mom a couple of times, the last one a few days ago. She mentioned you moving back in with her. But she also told me about you coming over with a young man. She called him Jay, but from her description, I’m guessing it was Jude.”
A week ago, I would’ve had an excuse at the ready, but now I just nod. “Yes.”
“Then I’m also assuming you didn’t stay away from him like I asked.”
“No,” I say, about to add that I’m not sorry. ’Cause I’msonot sorry.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” He beats me to it. At this point, he should be incapable of surprising me, but apparently not.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he repeats. “I had no right to impose that ultimatum on you. And from what it sounds like, Jude was there for you like I haven’t been. And I can’t begrudge him that. You deserve someone who will be there for you, support you, and won’t let you down.” He frowns, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at me as much as at himself. “God knows I didn’t do that for you. Katherine… With losing Connor and then the relationship between Knox and Eden, she’s had a tough time of it. Of handling change. But she’s going to have to eventually. And keeping her in a bubble isn’t protecting her, it’s hurting her. Besides, love isn’t black and white. God knows we all know that. Your mother and me. Knox in love with his brother’s wife. You falling for your stepbrother. If there’s one thing this family knows is messy love. But”—he shrugs a shoulder—“I don’t know if that necessarily a bad thing. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you love Jude, then I’m not standing in your way.”
No, he’s not standing in my way. I’m the only one doing that. But not any longer.
“Thanks,” I say. Not that I needed his permission, but it’s nice to know that I have it. Really…nice.
He stuffs his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m going to rip up the check, Cypress.”
“Okay.” I smile, and this time, it’s real. “I need to head out, or I’m going to be late for work.”
“Yeah.” He nods and clears his throat. “I’ll talk to you later.”
It’s spoken like a question, and a hesitant one. “That’ll be fine,” I reassure him, and before I can second-guess it, I cross the space between us and hug him. His arms come up and fold around me, and this one, this embrace isn’t awkward at all.
It’s one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody.
Maya Angelou was one wise woman, and she knew what she was talking about. As I leave Dan’s home and slide into my car, I pray for the first time in forever that Jude can offer me the same gift.
But before that, it’s past time I give another one to myself. One of freedom.
I’m going to be late to work, but Ben’s going to have to deal. Pulling up my contacts, I locate and dial the number of my real estate attorney. She answers after three rings, and I waste no time diving into what I need.
