“Did she ever regret it? Staying here?” I asked, voicing my biggest fear to my father: that I would regret staying here. My dad looked at me thoughtfully, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “You know, I don’t think she did. When she left her hometown, she was searching for something. I think she found it here.” “What was she looking for?” “The things we’re all searching for: love, support, purpose.” “And she found that in you?” “And in the mountains. And in August. And in Weston. And in you.” I felt tears prick in my eyes. Who was cutting onions in this fucking coffee shop? I’d never
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SO NOT OKAY
