It never occurred to me there could be somewhere outside the States that would suit me so well.

My thoughts unsettled me, crashing into me like a massive wave and pulling me out to sea. I floated in that endless sea for hours, until finally, exhaustion dragged me into sleep, relieving me of my worries for just a little while.

* * *

• • •

Somewhere around five in the morning, I was jolted out of the peace of slumber by Tom Grennan. Confused, heart racing, I blinked into the dark of the bedroom, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.

Then I remembered I’d changed my ringtone to “Found What I’ve Been Looking For” by Tom Grennan.

Panicked, I turned to fumble for it on my bedside table, thinking there must be some kind of emergency for someone to be calling me at this hour, when the song stopped. Grabbing my phone, I pushed up to sitting and unlocked it to see the missed call was from my mom.

I stared blearily at the screen for a moment.

Obviously, Phil had passed along my message to Mom that I was staying in England for another three months. What was she thinking? Would she think I was abandoning her? That I was done? Would this cause her to fall off the wagon? This was why I didn’t want to talk to her in the first place, because I didn’t want my concern for her dictating my choice. Not this time. At some point, I had to put myself first. Horrible flutters flapped around in my belly.

I’d only been staring at my phone a few minutes when it beeped, and an envelope appeared to let me know I had voice mail.

Oh God.

Just delete it, Evie.

But I couldn’t.

My curiosity was too great.

“Hey, baby girl.” My mom’s husky voice sounded in my ear as I listened to her message. An ache flared across my chest. “I just realized it’s probably really early where you are . . . so I’m sorry if I woke you.”

I relaxed at how clear she sounded.

No slurring.

Not off the wagon, then.

“I just . . . Phil told me you’re staying in England for another three months, and I couldn’t wait that long to say to you . . .” She sucked in a shaky breath and released it slowly, causing static on the line. “How sorry I am. Again. And . . . uh . . . well, I need you to know that if you can’t forgive me, if you can’t find it in you to give me another shot, that I understand, baby girl.” Her voice broke, her words filled with tears I knew were rolling down her face. “I need you to do what’s right for you, even if that means letting me go. I’ve been selfish with you for too long. So . . .” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “You make the right choice for you, my beautiful girl, and don’t worry about me. You’ve been the parent in this relationship for way too long. It’s my turn to do right by you . . . I’m sorry I let you down so much. I’m sorry I never found a way to let you know that I love you more than I love anything in this world.”

The message cut off and I struggled to breathe through the tears that had started falling from the moment I heard her voice.

In all the times she’d apologized, my mom had never once said, I need you to do what’s right for you.

It sparked a hope.

But that hope had been crushed too many times to count.

Turmoil washed through me, and I knew there was no going back to sleep after that message. Instead I got up, brushed my teeth, washed the tears off my face, and pulled on a boyfriend cardigan I’d brought with me.

I made coffee, slipped on shoes, and went outside to watch the sunrise from the apartment’s private garden across the street. The village was eerily silent, no sound but that of the sea lapping at the small shore of the harbor.

The sky was a dark purple color, slowly brightening to pale blue streaked with orange as the sun began to rise.

Sipping my coffee, I forced tears back as I pondered the message from my mother. For weeks now I’d purposefully forgotten everything about the States except Greer.

It was all waiting for me when I eventually got back, and with the exception of my best friend, I wasn’t sure I wanted to face any of it. Which was why Greer’s suspicions about my reasons for staying longer in England didn’t sound so silly to me anymore.

The heartbreaking truth was that I’d been happier, more content, these past few weeks than I remembered feeling in a long time. Suddenly, I felt brittle with confusion.