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Even with the little voice whispering that it wasall because of her.

“It’s not Sydney’s fault she’s your soulmate,” Moira says, as if reading my thoughts from right inside my head. My eyes snap to hers.

Soulmate.

I don’t know if she’s saying that because of Sydney’s reading or because she knows about our initial meeting at Kismet. Right now, it doesn’t matter.

“I don’t believe in that shit,” I bite back.

Liar, liar.

“Even so,” she replies. “I see how you two look at each other.”

“We barely know each other,” I say, even though I feel the flimsiness of the argument as it leaves my lips. “We can’t just change our whole lives to be together because of a connection we felt for a few days. That’s absurd.”

“No, you can’t admit that it’s what you want because you think that means you’ll be admitting I was right.”

A guttural growl rises in my throat. “Oh my God, you always have to make everything about you! Some things are not about you, Mom.” I snap my heated gaze to hers. I watch the flames light in the dark. She opens her lips to protest, her knee-jerk go-to, but then she doesn’t do it. She blinks, then she nods, a quiver rippling her lips.

“You’re right,” she says, her voice shaky.

“What?” I can’t be hearing that right.

Two words I never thought I’d hear her say. It’s everything and not enough at the same time. It’s a start, but I don’t know if I want to stick around to let her finish.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” I shouldn’t have thought I could beat her at her own game.

“But you did. You chose to come here, you chose to stay, and itdoesn’t matter why. What matters is what you do now.” Tears well in my eyes. “What do you want, Cadence?” She asks it as if I were a querent and her cards were in hand, shuffled and ready for me to cut.

“What the fuck does it matter what I want?”

“Everything.” She is steady. Sure. The perfect mirror for the Universe. “What you want is what you take action on.”

What do I want?

To not be this lonely.

But I can’t tell her that without conceding that getting as far away as I could gave me peace, but not happiness. It was an escape from her manipulation, her story of my life, but it didn’t give me belonging—that feeling that you matter to someone, that you’re known.

Sydney gave me that. This week beside her gave me a glimpse of it, at least. Made me aware of all I was missing and all I could have if I let myself. Despite how angry and hurt I am, I can’t deny that—for me—everything I’ve felt has been real.

Even the part about being glad I came back.

I’m scared of how much I want this story to keep going, despite the catalyst that started it. But I don’t think I can accept that Iwantit. That if I lose it, I’ll know I chose that, too.

I shake my head. I don’t answer her question out loud, I don’t say another word. I have to get space. I have to get far enough away from her.

I have to think this through.

Feel it.

What do you want, Cadence?

I don’t know the answer to that yet.

Chapter Forty-Two

Sydney