My eyes shot to Adam’s and we held each other’s gaze for a long moment. My heartbeat came with increasingly sharp, stabbing twinges.

My voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I cleared my throat. “Excuse me.” And I withdrew, heading straight for the shower.

I turned the water temperature up as high as I could tolerate it. I needed it to wash away the numbness, the painful emptiness inside me. Tomorrow he’d be gone and this time I’d likely never see him again. By rejecting him, by allowing him to go, he’d know that I wanted him to get on with his life. Without me.

I thought about his accusations, about the reasons why I couldn’t let him in. I knew it was because I was certain he’d hurt me. He’d leave me. All men leave. And he would too. Just like the Bio—Just like Gerard. Every single man you look at for the rest of your life is tainted by him. I was agonizingly aware of the truth in his words. Adam was not Gerard. Adam was not married, was not using me. Adam wanted more. Had just told me he was in love with me and, for all that meant, I honestly felt he believed it.

Adam was not Gerard. And there were many men in the world who weren’t. And I had to stop believing, in my childish way, that because one didn’t want me—because Gerard had rejected me before I was even born—that everyone else would, too. I had to find the courage to believe it and follow a path to happiness according to that new belief.

I stayed under that pulsing hot spray until it ran tepid and Mom banged on the door in protest because there was no hot water for the dishes.

“Mia,” she said when I got out, wrapping my robe around my dripping body.

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

“Our guest…Mr. Drake—”

I panicked, heart racing. “Did he leave already?” I grabbed her arm with my urgent need to know.

Mom wrested it free from my grip and frowned. “No. I told you—tomorrow morning. You two already knew each other, didn’t you?”

I pulled back, turned and walked into my room. Of course, she followed me. “Mia, is he the guy you’ve been seeing?”

I stopped, that same old muscle knotting between my shoulder blades. I sighed. “Yes.”

“You know I’m a shitty judge of character, so you shouldn’t trust me as far as you can throw me, but—”

I turned. “Stop blaming yourself, Mom. Stop doubting yourself. You made one mistake and you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it for the rest of your life.”

Her face set into grim lines. “Wise words that you should live by. You shouldn’t be basing your entire life on my mistake, either.”

I slumped onto my bed and looked at her. I took in a shaky breath. “I’m scared.”

She sank onto the bed next to me and put her arms around my shoulders. “Growing up is a scary thing. I think I know why he came up here and I think I know what decision you are scared of making. And the only thing I can tell you is that the decision is yours and yours alone to make. But consider me. I’ve been alone for a long time by choice and I’d rather you found someone who makes you happy. Mia, if you love him, don’t choose to be alone.”

If you love him…I rested my head against her shoulder and closed my eyes, that pain throbbing deep inside me again. I sighed, knowing the truth of her words.

***

In nothing more than my nightshirt and underwear, I stood on his doorstep in the cool desert night, shaking but not from the chill. In the distance, I could hear a pack of coyotes calling to each other, and the ubiquitous chirps of crickets.

There was no light coming from under his door and as it wasn’t very late, I was concerned. As far as I knew from the nights we’d spent together, he was not one to retire early. But maybe he was tired tonight.

Well, tough shit, I’d wake him up, then. This couldn’t wait. I reached up and knocked loudly on the door, listening carefully for footsteps to approach on the other side. But there was complete silence.

I glanced at the window. The curtains had not been completely pulled to cover it so I pressed my face against it, cupping my hands to look inside. And I couldn’t see a damned thing because it was so dark.

“Adam?” I called through the window giving it a bang with my fist and then waited. Nothing.

For long moments I refused to let myself believe that he wasn’t on the other side of that door. I knocked again. Called again. My stomach twisted until it threatened nausea. Oh God—Oh God! He’d left. I gasped for breath. He’d packed up his stuff and gone even though he told Mom he wouldn’t be leaving until the morning. He’d driven away while I was in the shower. Fuck.