Playing to Win

she was dead, so…”
    He was sure she wanted to think her mother was still out there somewhere. Still alive. Better than the alternative of dying of a drug overdose in an alley somewhere.
    “So you ended up in foster care.”
    “Yes.”
    She was so calm. He wanted her to rage or cry, or hit something, to let out the emotion he knew she held in. But this was her story and she had the right to tell it—and to feel it—however she wanted to.
    “How were the families you lived with?”
    She lifted her gaze to his and offered a smile, but it wasn’t her normal, happy one. “Pretty good, actually. I got shifted in and out of a few at first, then ended up with a solid family. I had siblings—two younger sisters, which was nice, and attentive parents, which was even better. I had always loved school, and without having to worry or care for my mother, I could finally focus more on my studies. I wasn’t a problem child, so my foster parents didn’t haveissues with me. We all got along great, I was an A student, and I ended up getting a scholarship to the University of Georgia.”
    Yeah, just one big fucking happy family. Only she left out the love part. He bet she wouldn’t have done anything to make waves just so she wouldn’t be abandoned again.
    “Did you miss your mom?”
    “She dumped me,” she said with a shrug. “No point in missing her.”
    “But you did miss her.”
    She frowned. “Don’t push this, Cole.”
    She tried to jerk her hand away, but he held firm, refusing to let her run this time. “Why hold it inside, Peaches? Isn’t it better to get all the hurt and anger out?”
    She shifted to face him. “It was a long time ago.”
    “Doesn’t make it hurt any less. Hell, I hurt after being abandoned by a goddamned football team. But I have a strong, tight-knit family who loves me. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have them. And look at you—you’re smart, you’re successful, and look at the person you’ve become. You did this all on your own.”
    She looked down, then back up at him. “I didn’t do it alone. I had a very nice foster family, I was lucky to land a really great scholarship, and I had mentors to help me along the way.”
    “But not a family—not your mother. The person who should have been there for you, cheering for you and supporting you.”
    “Not everyone has the traditional nuclear family, Cole. Some of us actually survive that.”
    “I know.” He leaned in and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “And you can try and pretend it’s okay. That you’re strong and tough and you don’t need anyone. That you didn’t need her. But that’s all bullshit. I know it, and you know it.”
    Savannah stared at Cole.
    “You’re so pushy. I told you my story. Why can’t you leave it alone?”
    “Have you ever dealt with it?”
    She’d spent so many years holding it all inside.
    “I’m here right now, aren’t I? I obviously dealt with my past.”
    “I’m not talking about surviving it. Yeah, you survived it. But you haven’t let go of it.” He rubbed her arm. “What she did to you mattered. It wasn’t fair.”
    He was wrong. She was fine. It didn’t matter. She had always shown everyone how strong she was.
    “Show me how you feel, Peaches.”
    Damn him. In a matter of a few weeks, he’d seen right through her. One music box, and he’d known.
    Her bottom lip trembled. She got up, walked to the window to look outside, staring at the darkness, not really seeing anything but the years falling away, stripping away the cool, confident woman she was now, revealing the scared little girl she once was. She’d vowed to never go back to that place, to never revisit those feelings again, yet here she stood.
    Cole wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened.
    “It’s okay to be vulnerable, Savannah, to let someone see you scared.”
    “I’m not scared. Not anymore.”
    He tightened his hold on her. “She hurt you, abandoned you. What kind of mother does that?”
    “She was sick.”
    “Stop making excuses for her.” He turned her around to face him. “Did you ever get mad at her? Did you ever lash out, even in a room by yourself, and voice how you feel?”
    She looked past him, to all those nights she’d waited in the foster home. “Every time the phone or doorbell rang, I was sure it was her. That the reason she’d left was so she could get clean, and then she was going to come back for me.
    “But every time the phone or doorbell rang, it