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As I reached for one, she pulled the container back hard.

“I heard your new boss tried to hit you with her SUV yesterday.”

Keeping my expression flat, I shrugged. “Shocked you waited this long to ask me about it.”

“I thought you’d reach out after it happened,” she said. “I heard yesterday morning, obviously, but when I found out who the woman was, I thought I’d give you time to process.” She patted my cheek, then, miraculously, held a cookie out to me. “So I did some baking while I waited.”

My heart lifted as I took it from her. As I took a bite, savoring the soft and crumbly texture and the sprinkling of sugar on top, I had to fight back a moan. Shit, this was good.

“So start talking.”

Instantly, the lightness that had snuck in dissipated. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Your ex-wife bought your company. You’re working for her now. And she almost ran you over. I knew she was a passionate girl, but I didn’t take her for a homicidal maniac.”

“It was an accident.”

She huffed in amusement. “Sure.”

“It was.” I swiped at the crumbs that had scattered on the counter in front of me. “And it’s all fine.”

My mother put several containers of cookies in my freezer. Those wouldn’t last the weekend, but it was cute that she wanted to leave my house fully stocked.

Once they were put away and she’d reorganized some of the food in the freezer, she took her mug and headed over to the couch. She sat calmly, watching me with curiosity. I wasn’t sure whether she was waiting for me or Clementine to open up, but neither of us were particularly social.

She cooed softly at my dog, who’d come out from her hiding spot. “Hello, sweet girl. I came to see you again.”

Clementine lifted her head up off the floor. I’d purchased her a very expensive dog bed, but rather than enjoy it, she lay on the floor beside it, just to make it clear she didn’t want anything I had to give her.

“Skittish,” my mother observed. She gently put her coffee on the end table and sat on the ground a respectful distance away from Clem.

“Yes. My dog hates everyone.”

Mom shook her head. “Nonsense. You’ve just got to give her time and build trust. The best relationships take work.”

She patted the floor, gesturing for me to sit down with her. So I did. As I settled, Clementine watched us with curiosity.

Smiling softly, Mom patted my cheek. “You always want to rush. To do the thing, check the box, get the accomplishment and the gold star.”

I opened my mouth to protest but shut it quickly. She wasn’t wrong.

She shook her head and went back to offering Clementine the back of her hand. Slowly, my dog pushed forward on her belly, working her way closer to my mom. Inch by inch, she grew curious about the humans sitting on the floor.

“Patience is so hard,” she said, still cooing at the dog. “Do you think it was easy for me to accept when you took off to live with your dad?”

A pang of guilt hit me square in the gut. Though she did her best to keep her expression neutral, she couldn’t hide the flash of pain in her eyes. I loved my mom. But our relationship had not always been great. We’d drifted when I was a teenager. Back when I’d been so enamored with Dad and his money and his power and the business. I didn’t see it at the time, but he’d driven a wedge between us. It wasn’t until years later that I’d been able to identify his behavior. The manipulation, a term I’d learned called triangulation, had been effective back when I was young and stupid.

To this day, shame ate at me when I thought about how I’d pulled away, leaving her and my brothers behind while I chased my father’s approval.

But my mom, always wise and loving, had let me go so I could figure things out for myself.

Head bowed, I shook it. “I’m so sorry.” I’d apologized long ago, but the weight of the guilt was unbearable sometimes. I’d been so lost, and yet she’d never given up on me.

She put her arm around me and squeezed. “I knew you’d find your way back. You were growing into a man, and you needed your father. Whether he could give you what you needed is another story.” She pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

That was the truth. My father had not provided a solid example of manhood, or personhood, for that matter. If only I hadn’t wasted so much time desperate to learn from him.

“But kids are a lot like this sweet puppy.” Her voice got all gooey as Clementine, who’d crept even closer, sniffed her hand. “They come around eventually. They have to stretch their wings and stumble. That’s how they discover who they’re meant to be.” She beamed at me. “It might have been a rocky journey, but look at the man you’ve become.”

My cheeks heated. “Mom, don’t talk like that.”

She was always so effusive and affectionate, but the kindness felt unearned. I wasn’t wealthy and educated like Owen or a military hero like Finn. Hell, Noah was out saving lives and fighting deadly wildfires every day. Jude was working to conquer his shyness by playing with his band, and Cole, although in a bad spot at the moment, had been a hockey star. He’d bounce back eventually.

“Let’s not pretend I’ve amounted to much.”

She elbowed me in the ribs. “August Gabriel Hebert, don’t you dare speak like that about my son.”

Tilting away from her, I rubbed at my side. Shit, that hurt. “I’m trying.” But with all the recent changes in my life, I was barely keeping my head above water. “I’m trying to get unstuck, push myself, and figure out who I’m supposed to be.”

“From where I sit, you’re attacking it like you do everything else. Head on straight and with total commitment. Just like this puppy. That’s what makes you so special. Once you commit, you’re all-in. You go big, and you love completely.”

Wow, this visit had really taken a turn toward the emotional. With a deep breath in, I reined in the ache that had blossomed in my chest. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Did you watch the TED talk I sent you?”

I bit back a chuckle. “Not yet.”

She gave me a disapproving frown. My mother had recently become a devotee of Brene Brown and was pushing my brothers and me to read her work. I didn’t have the time, nor the desire to unpack all the things that were wrong with me. The preliminary list I had was already pretty long. The last thing I needed was to find more shit to feel terrible about.

Are sens

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