What Heals Us (Falls Creek, #2)

by Maggie C. Gates

“Sugar, hear me when I say this—I’m honored that you trust me like this, but it’s not something I’m gonna brag about. People aren’t prizes. Kisses and virginity and any other vulnerable milestones—they shouldn’t be treated as trophies to be won.”

“Sugar, I’m not your dad, but I can sure as hell be your daddy.”

“You are more than the sum of your past and present. The future is an unknown variable, and that’s the best part.” He kissed my forehead. “Don’t give up.”

“Don’t,” I said, scolding her as I peeled her hands away and kissed her scar again. “I have scars from saving other people. You got yours from fighting for yourself. And that takes a hell of a lot more strength.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a secret. I’m a fan of gas station roses. You know why?” I shook my head. “Florists are for anniversaries and apologies. Gas station roses aren’t planned. It’s something that says, ‘I saw this and thought of you.’ Gas station roses die in, like, five minutes. A gas station rose means I thought of you and I had to see you before I did anything else because I’ve been thinking about you all week and couldn’t go another minute without seeing your pretty face.”

Dress however the hell makes you happy and comfortable in your own skin but carry yourself the way a woman should. Confident and powerful and unapologetic.”

“If you don’t mind a roommate, I have a spare bedroom,” Shane said. He chuckled into his coffee. “And before you think this is a handout, you’d get half the rent and utilities and half of a cat that adopted me.” I raised an eyebrow. “A cat adopted you?” He shrugged. “Little fucker showed up when I was moving in, walked in the door like he owned the place, plopped his furry ass on my couch, and hasn’t left.”

“Just because your pain is different than mine doesn’t make it any less valid. Life hurts. Things are never black and white. It’s not even shades of gray.” She turned back to the sky that looked as though it had been filled with a paintbrush. “It’s color. And colors can’t be compared to one another. They just are. How would someone look at the soft greens of the Northern Lights and think that it’s greater or lesser than a sunrise on a beach?” Caroline twisted and cupped my cheeks. “Give yourself space to acknowledge where you are and what you feel. Allow yourself to feel it regardless of how you think it compares to what other people are going through. It’s the only way to heal.”

“We all bleed for something. Saving others. Saving ourselves. No one goes through life unscathed.”

“Because it’s what we do for the people we love. We hurt with them. We carry them. We bleed for them. We save them. And we help them heal.”