I didn't want tonight to be about me. Molly is a strong girl, but I know that she's hurting from this whole Henry thing, so I want to be there for her, but she refuses to not have it be the other way around.

"What are you thinking about right now?" she asks. We left the carnival right after my encounter with Jordana and came back to my house, where we're sitting on my bed with ice cream, rehashing tonight's events.

"How shitty being in love is," I answer.

Molly takes the pillow and playfully whacks me in the arm with it. "Shut up! You know that's not true."

"I'm serious, Mol. Is being in love actually worth the tears?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, I've never been in love before, but I hear nothing beats the feeling."

"Ugh. Jack's so confusing. Just when I think he's out of my head...out of my heart...he proves me wrong. He knows exactly what he's doing. In fact, he's a master at it. The second that I find even the slightest bit of courage to move on and away from him, it's like this alarm bell goes off in his body alerting him that I'm slipping away from his charm. And then, the next thing I know, he's reeling me back in until he has me right where he wants me. Right where I've always been. At his every beck and call."

"But you're not at his every beck and call, Stassie. You stick up to him when it comes to what you believe in. Why are you being so hard on yourself right now?"

"I don't know," I softly say, pulling my covers over me.

"Maybe you just need to move on from him, Stassie. For good."

I chuckle. "You say that like it's easy."

"No," she counters. "I say it like it's possible. You have to let go eventually, Stassie. You have to. Because by holding on, you're keeping this love for him burning inside of you, and it's taking up space in your heart that could be meant for someone else."

"You're right, Mol. It's just...how will my heart ever heal from this?"

She looks at me sympathetically and then reaches for my arm. "Over time," she says.

***

13 years ago, when my mom left us, I promised myself that she would never win back my love; that she would never win back my forgiveness. Despite what I promised myself, I knew that I didn't mean it. I knew that I would always love her, that I had already forgiven her even though I convinced myself otherwise. I was just afraid of getting hurt again. Because, if I said the words out loud – that I forgave her – it would mean that her walking away from us never happened, and I had more respect for both myself and my dad than that.

Gandhi once said that, 'The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."

That's why I'm here. Standing outside her hotel room.

I haven't knocked just yet; I'm still bringing myself to do it. So I release three deep breaths and then go for it.

I hear footsteps on the other side of the door making their way closer. I also feel my heart beating out of my chest. I'll be honest, I have no idea what I'm going to say to her. I just know that I don't want to hold onto these lingering negative emotions any longer.

She answers the door and I think she may be more shocked to see me than I feel standing here.

"Anastasia," she says, "hi."

"Hi. I'm, uh, sorry to show up like this, but I was hoping we could talk."

"Uh, yes," she says, widening the door open. "Please, come in."

The first thought that comes to mind when I step into the room is whether or not dad's paying for her stay. I wouldn't put it past him if he is, but at the same time, I know nothing about this woman. She could be a multimillionaire, running her own business, and I wouldn't even know.

I take a seat on the beige sofa that's across the bed and she does the same. The carry-on in the corner of the room tells me that she wasn't planning on staying in Connecticut long, and I don't expect to, but I feel a bit of disappointment by the thought.

"Thank you for coming," she speaks up. "To be honest, I didn't think you ever wanted to see me again."

"To be honest, I didn't think so, either." I catch a pained look on her face, but I'm not going to lie to her. I promised myself that if I came here, I wouldn't hold back. I'd be as honest as I needed to be. "The day you left, my mind was immediately flooded with questions. Questions that no 3-year-old should ever have to ask herself, or even have to think about. To this day, my mind is scrambled with so many things I wish you could answer for me. But what they all come down to is the same thing...why? Why'd you do it? Why'd you leave?"

She releases a breath and then starts. "You know, I always knew this day would come. And I always knew it'd feel hard, but not practically impossible. I guess I should start from the beginning. I found out I was pregnant with you when I was in college. I was a junior."

I don't mean to cut her off but I can't help but blurt out, "I thought you never went to college."

"That's what we told you. But I did. I dropped out when I found out I was pregnant with you. I was so scared, Anastasia. I had so many things that I wanted to accomplish before becoming a mother. I had dreams of graduating and opening up my own clothing store. And while I wanted to be a mother so badly, I knew that it wasn't something I was ready to be at 19-years-old. I also knew that I couldn't do both. I couldn't be a full-time student while completely dedicating myself as a parent, and you deserved to be my entire world. So I withdrew my admission and didn't think twice about it. Your father and I decided to get married a few months after that. We didn't really think it through, we just knew that it was the right thing to do as a family. Sometimes though, Anastasia, the right thing to do isn't really the right thing to do. Not if it doesn't mean something to you. I loved your father...I still do...but I wasn't ready for that kind of life, and it caught up to me."

"Which is why you eventually left..."

"I know it sounds simple. Me just picking up and leaving, but it wasn't. I knew if I went through with it, I'd never forgive myself. But I also knew that you deserved more...better. And I wasn't more. I wasn't better."

"But you didn't even try to be."

"I was so young. I didn't know what I was doing. And if I could go back in time and do things differently, I would've. But I was terrified. And I panicked. It's a mistake that I regret with everything in me, and I know that I can't just come back and change the light you see me in, but the least I can do is try. I don't expect you to forgive me, to not hate me. But I'm done regretting the actions that I don't take, and I knew that if I didn't come back and try, I would have regretted it."

"You said you don't expect me not to hate you. I don't hate you. I could never. I don't agree with you leaving, but I wouldn't be human if I didn't try to understand what you were going through at the time. So, I forgive you."

Her expression breaks out into a soft smirk and I give her one back. Moving on from something so monumental in your life doesn't mean you have to forget. But holding onto a grudge is only hurting me, hurting what can be with me and my mom. While she can't change what she did, that's not to say that she hasn't changed. And I owe it to myself to see if that's true. From this point on, the past is in the past, and I'm hopeful for the future when it comes to my relationship with Lisa.

Like Henry said, what's life without some sort of hope?