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long past time to end our little friends-with-benefits arrangement. It wasn’t working for me anymore.
    I tossed my phone into my backpack and threw my truck into drive, heading up the driveway to my house. I said a quick prayer as I pushed the front door open, hoping that today would be a good day.
    “Mom, I’m home,” I called as I dropped my stuff by the door and headed for the living room. She was laying on her side, stretched out on the couch with the TV on mute. She didn’t move as I slowly walked around the side. Her red-rimmed eyes were focused on the silent television set as she sniffled and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. At least it looked like she’d managed to shower.
    “You okay?” I asked softly as I knelt down in front of her, moving her dark hair off her forehead. She pushed herself up and gave me a small smile.
    “Yeah, honey. I’m okay. Just a little emotional.”
    My brow quirked skeptically as I studied her. “You sure?”
    She stood from the couch and attempted to brush the wrinkles from her clothes. “Yeah, baby. I’ll be fine. Today was an okay day. You need to stop worrying about me. I’m going to start dinner. Why don’t you go get washed up?” She walked from the room, leaving me with no other option than to do as she said. She wasn’t great, but I’d seen her much worse. Over the past few years I’d learned to take what I could get, and if Mom insisted she was all right, then I was going to leave her be.
    As I headed for my room, Freya’s earlier words came back to me. The memory of her looking at me with such distaste, like I was the king of all assholes felt like a lead weight sitting at the bottom of my stomach. She had no problem calling me out on my less-than-stellar behavior, and I was ashamed to admit it, but she was right. I’d allowed myself to get so lost in the lives of the people around me that I’d lost a part of myself along the way—the part that made me a decent human-being. I didn’t want to live like I had been for the past three years. I was done. But more than that, I wanted to prove Freya wrong. I wanted her to see that I wasn’t the person she thought I was.
    A smirk spread across my face as I fell back onto my bed and began forming a plan in my head. Proving Freya wrong was going to be a lot of fun.

    A few nights later, I sat on my bed flipping through one of our old photo albums, looking at pictures of my mother. She’d always been crafty, and our bookshelves had been full of handmade albums she’s spent countless hours on. When we’d unpacked, I hadn’t bothered putting any of them on the shelves in our new living room. I’d kept them neatly stacked in my closet so I could go through them whenever I started to really miss her. My father hadn’t said anything, so I’d just assumed he’d forgotten all about them.
    Each picture of her smiling face brought with it a memory that sent a twinge of pain straight through my heart. I gazed down at the picture of us at the beach standing hand in hand at the water’s edge, staring out at its beauty. I was ten years old when we’d taken that family vacation, but I remembered it like it was yesterday. I smiled through my tears as I recalled that day so vividly.
    “Always watch the sun set, Freya. No matter how busy you are, or where you are, always take the time to enjoy the sunset.”
    I looked up at my mom as she stared peacefully out at the water. “Why? What’s so special about them?”
    She turned her head smiled softly down at me. “It’s the kind of beauty only God can create, sweetheart. Nothing in life can compare. You’ll never see anything as beautiful as the scattered colors that float across the sky. Every sunset is like a watercolor painting God made just for you. It’s a gift, but sometimes people get so busy they forget to appreciate what’s given to them every day.”
    She reached down to stroke her fingers across my temple, tucking a piece of loose hair behind my ear. “I