“Being here? To stay?” I whisper.

Mason takes a step toward me. “I couldn’t leave you. I used some of the money from Dad’s insurance. Put a deposit down on an apartment. Bought a car. I need to pick it up this evening. I signed up for counseling. I thought we could both go.”

“Counseling?”

“I didn’t think it was fair to ask you to get help for your cutting without me getting help for my anger.”

I take a step now. The distance between us just inches. “I need you to spell this out for me, Mason. Slowly.”

“Mom thought she could bribe me with Illinois. Still does, actually. I’m sure it won’t take her long to understand I’m serious.” He shakes his head and takes the final step. “When she first told me, I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe I could go and we could try to make it work. But I was suffocating just thinking about it. I spent the last two days getting everything taken care of. As much I as I wanna go back there, I realized it isn’t my home anymore. You are.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I needed to be sure I was making the right decision for the right reason.”

“You chose me over Illinois?”

He pushes his hands into my hair and smiles. “I chose us.” He brings his lips to mine and I swing my arms around him, clinging to him as I return the kiss.

I pull back and gaze up at him. “Can I have my Skittles now?”

“Depends,” he says quietly.

“On?”

“You owe me a song,” he reminds me.

“Skittles for a love song?” He nods, grinning wide enough to show off the dimple. “Deal.”

Epilogue

Mason

“Tell me what you can do instead,” I say. This is part of our therapy: think of a healthier way to relieve stress other than harming yourself or others. I thought it was pretty stupid at first, but we’ve turned it into a game, trying to outdo each other. It works surprisingly well—taking my mind off whatever I’m struggling over.

Right now Hope’s the one struggling. She’s having a mini panic attack about having to go out on stage. It’s been over three years since she’s hurt herself, but it’s something she still struggles with on occasion.

“I could go home and have wild sex with my gorgeous fiancé.” She bats her lashes, grinning, and I’m tempted for half a second.

“No,” I say more to myself. “Nice try.” I slip a Jolly Rancher into her hand, hoping it will last until her name’s called. “You’ve worked too hard for this. You need to get out there with your class and get that diploma.”

She crinkles her nose and I still think it’s the cutest thing. “They could mail it to me.”

“They could, but then I couldn’t take pictures of you.”

She bounces on her toes and beams at me. “What if we go home and I let you take pictures of me. You can have full creative control. You can dress me, or not.” She winks. “You can pose me. I’ll even sing while you do it.”

Wow. She’s pulling out the big guns. I clear my throat. “That’s evil,” I say, but I can’t seem to put the right amount of heat in my voice. It comes out sounding like she almost has me where she wants me, which she does, but I can’t let her know that. “Your whole family’s here for you. Now come on, give me something real.”

Hope sighs, defeated. “I could hug you.”

I open my arms. “Sounds good to me.”

She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head in my chest, taking a deep breath. I run my fingers through her hair until she pulls away.

“Better?”

“Better,” she agrees. “Thanks.” I kiss her forehead softly.

“I’m going to watch you until you get to your seat, and then I’m going to go back to my seat in the audience. Okay?”

“I’m going. You don’t have to watch me.” She turns and I smile.

“I like watching you,” I call. “You’ve got an amazing ass.”

“You can’t see my ass in this gown, pervert,” she sighs without looking back.

I chuckle. She’s right, I can’t see it right now, but I have a good memory. Once she’s seated, I head up to the balcony where Guy’s saving me a spot.

“She good?” he asks, his face etched with concern. He knows as well as I do that she’s gotten better, especially when it comes to dealing with what happened to her as a kid, but her panic attacks will always be something she battles.

“Yep, she just needed a hug.” He nods and sits back.

Kellin leans into my shoulder. “How long’s this going to take. I hate these things.” He adjusts his tie for the hundredth time since we’ve been here.

“You just sat through my graduation last week. You know how long it takes. And if you don’t want the tie on then take it off.”

“Mom will kick my ass,” he hisses.

“Don’t say ass.”

“Dude, I’ll be eighteen in three months.” He glances behind us at Misty, checking to see if she’s paying attention. She is, even though she’s pretending not to. “Back off me. I hear that shit enough from Mom.”

“So she scares you enough to keep the tie, but not enough to make you watch your mouth at my fiancé’s college graduation?”

“She didn’t hear me, but she’ll notice the damn tie in a heartbeat.”

“I do hear you, Kellin Montgomery Patel,” Mom says leaning around Guy. “Don’t make me come over there.”

I point at Kel and laugh. “Ohhh.”

“Shut the hell up,” he whisper yells as he shoves my arm. I nearly fall off the chair because I’m too busy laughing at him.

“Knock it off,” Mom scolds. “I don’t want to miss anything.” Nothing is even happening yet, but I settle back and look down to find Hope. As if she feels my gaze on her, she turns around and looks up. Our eyes lock and she smiles widely. Mom waves at her excitedly.

Mom and I went through a rough patch for awhile. She wasn’t happy that I stayed in Ohio. That’s putting it mildly. It got really ugly when Mom got Jenny and Alec involved, but in the end, it was for the best. After they got over the hurt and shock, they’ve been nothing but supportive. But things with Mom got worse when she found out Hope moved in with me after turning eighteen. She almost didn’t let Kellin come visit anymore. It took a huge blow out, a major heart to heart between Mom and Hope, and a few family-counseling sessions for her to agree to a weekend visit.

Over the last four years, Mom and Hope have become close. I don’t know if it was the realization that I wasn’t giving Hope up, or it might have been the counseling, or possibly that Hope decided to go to college at Vandercook, here in Chicago, majoring in music education. I guess it was the combination of it all. I know the main reason she chose to attend here was for me. For me, for Kellin, for Mom.

I followed her, obviously. Did the community thing and got my degree in fine arts with an emphasis in photography and a secondary degree in business. Hope wants to open a center that specializes in art therapy for children. Knowing how much music helped Hope, at some point, this became my dream as well. It’s a while off, but we are well on our way.

First we have to get through this ceremony. Then there’s the wedding next month. Same church Mom and Dad got married in. I don’t know who’s more excited about it, me or Hope, but I can’t wait for her to become Mrs. Hope Love-Patel. Isn’t that the greatest damn name?

When they call Hope up to accept her diploma, I whistle as I click pictures. She looks up at me and grins beautifully as she opens her gown. She’s wearing her Beatles tee shirt over the dress she’s supposed to be wearing. The same shirt she was wearing when I fell in love with her. She throws her hand up in the “rock on” symbol as she holds her diploma high above her head.

I never thought I could love someone so much, but sometimes never is a distorted perception, because I continuously find myself falling deeper in love with her every day.