She shakes her head slowly. “He reminds me of Frank.”
I blink. “Really?”
“The way he looks at you.” She exhales. “The way he talks and something about him just-” She stops,
pressing her lips together. “It triggered me, if I’m being honest. Because he’s a good guy, and seeing that
reminded me of what I walked away from. I didn’t handle it well.”
“No,” I agree. “But I get it now.”
“Is he good to you?”
“He’s the best,” And I mean it without any hesitation. “I’m really happy with him, Mum.”
Relief crosses her face. “That’s what matters then. How is he doing? His injury…”
“Better,” I respond. “He had surgery for a hematoma, which was terrifying, but he’s walking now with crutches.” I pull my knees up to my chest. “He’ll need a physical therapist to work on his knee and shoulder
properly before he can even think about getting back on the ice and I really hope he can play again. I know how much it means to him.”
Mum is quiet for a moment. “It’s a good thing you stayed back in Colorado then.”
“I’m serious, I can’t hear that word the same way anymore.” I press my lips together, fighting it. “Justin has completely ruined my vocabulary.”
She hits my arm. “I cannot believe you.”
“What?” I say, my eyes wide with innocence. “I’m just saying, he’s really good with his tongue.”
She lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a laugh, and I lose it completely, and suddenly we’re both howling, and she’s hitting my arm repeatedly like that’s going to stop either of us, which it absolutely does not.
“I raised you,” she wheezes. “I raised you in a respectable home-”
“You asked about depth!”

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