Page 173 of Let You Love Me

She pulls away from me now, on a rampage as she shoots to her feet, pacing in front of me.

I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t dare stop her when she points and glares. “It’s like you’ve been punishing yourself for four fucking years. And to what end? You’re hellbent on doing everything on your own like you’re not worthy of help because of one bad choice made years ago.”

My insides twist at the truth in her words. I throw my hands up, frustrated and defensive and . . .lost. “So, what’s your point? What are you even trying to say?”

She pauses, eyes like darts finding their target when they lock with mine. “I’m trying to say that you need to stop punishing yourself and start fucking living, Lane. Meeting Teagan was the best damn thing that ever happened to you because for the first time in your life, I watched you give up a little of that control. I’ve watched you release your foothold on this idea of perfection, or that you’re not worthy.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I scoff, crossing my arms over the frantic beating of my heart. “What is it I think I’m not worthy of?”

“Hell if I know.” Gabby throws her hands up. “Time, help, love, or whatever the fuck else you have in that head of yours. These past two months, I’ve watched you not only openly accept help but ask for it instead of being so damn stubborn and doing everything yourself. You’ve taken the proverbial bull by the horns and I fucking love it.”

My guts twist painfully. “Yeah, well, that’s over now. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. But what I do know is we accept the love we think we deserve. And ever since you found out you were pregnant, you think you don’t deserve anything good, Lane, unless it’s fucking hard-earned by you.”

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking the air from my lungs. I open my mouth to speak, to deny it, but she beats me to the punch.

“And maybe that’s the problem. From the moment Teagan met you, he gave himself freely. He was smitten with you from day one. Hell, I could see the love in that boy’s eyes from the start, but you didn’t think you deserved him. You didn’t think you deserved love or a relationship or happiness, telling yourself no one wants a young, single mom. And so, you pushed him away. And once you could no longer do that, you did the one thing that ensured you’d self-destruct. You withheld the truth from him, the one person you should’ve confided in.”

She flops back down in the desk chair, and her whole body sags. “Self-sabotage is a bitch.”

Chapter 48

LANE

My thoughts churn inmy head like freshly tilled soil. It’s as if, with one swift movement, Gabby uprooted all my weeds and exposed them to the light.

Is she right?

Have I been so focused on being perfect, all while punishing myself because of one mistake? Was I so blinded by my own shame that I pushed Teagan away?

Self-sabotage, that’s what Gabby called it.

I hate to say it fits. This whole time, I’ve blamed keeping Chance’s secret on preserving my father’s future, but when you love someone, you tell them everything.

And I trusted Teagan. Enough to tell Sophie we were dating. Enough to allow him a place in my life with her. I should’ve told him, yet didn’t. Why?

We accept the love we feel we deserve.

It’s the one phrase that keeps running through my head and every time I think about it, I feel a little piece of me crack.

How many times did I tell myself no one would want me because I’m a young, single mom?

A thousand. A million. Every time a man dared to look in my direction with even the slightest hint of interest.

Yet it was a lie.

Iliedto myself time and time again, because Teagandidwant me. I was just too damned stubborn to give him all of me when he asked.

I drop my head back against the headboard of my bed, staring at nothing when my gaze falls to my nightstand and the leather-bound journal I’ve kept since junior high. The binding is cracked. Pages have been added and old ones glued back into place. Inside, are hundreds of entries, and though I don’t use it all that much anymore, there was a time when I did. When I used it nearly every day, spilling everything I couldn’t bear to say out loud onto its pages.

Reaching out, I pick it up and run my fingers over the worn leather cover, then crack it open. Each entry is labeled with a date at the top, making it easy to findthatday—the one that changed everything.

I’m pregnant.

I can barely believe it.

The word rolls around in my head like a bowling ball every time I think about it, thoughts scattering like pins at its impact.

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