Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I go quiet, the terrifying reality of his pushing the door open and invading Cameron’s home hitting me again. He acted like it was no big deal, but it was a huge escalation of whatever power play he always tried to make with me.
“Cameron,” Kayla reminds me. “Tell us what my idiot brother did.”
Somehow, her calling him names again both helps and hurts. I shake my head. “He’s not an idiot. He’s protecting Grace, something I should’ve done. I just never dreamed Austin would…”
“No, you’re not blaming yourself for something that man did.” Miranda’s sweet, motherly nature is gone, replaced with the no-nonsense tone she must’ve used to keep five boys and Kayla in line over the years. “Or something Cameron did.”
“I’m not,” I tell them. “This is my fault. I knew Austin would show up eventually, and I didn’t say anything. And when I saw him at the grocery store, I still didn’t tell Cameron, or even Cole. I tried to handle it on my own the way I always do, but it was different this time. I didn’t want to risk what I was building here, what I’d found in them and all of you.”
I hang my head, ashamed that I selfishly put them all at risk because I’d been too scared to ask for help. Help they would’ve gladly given.
“So, your position is,” Kayla starts, back in her professional, all-business tone. When I peek up, her posture is rod-straight, her eyes cold and hard, and her hands are steepled at her waist. “That after a lifetime of being let down by the system, being clearly shown that you can’t trust anyone, that people leave you with such regularity that you use dark humor as a coping mechanism, going so far as joking about being a death curse—”
“Kayla,” Janey hisses, interrupting Kayla’s laundry list of the way life has failed me and glancing back and forth from her to me because that ‘joke’ she’s talking about is one I said to Janey and Cole when they told me that my biological dad had died mere days after meeting me for the first time, so they’ve obviously been talking about me.
But Kayla ignores her, like a lioness going in for the kill. “Your position is, that after all that, and your somewhat successful handling of a tenuous situation for over ten years—including when you were an actual child—that you should’ve run to Cameron and Cole like some damsel in distress at the first sight of the man you stood up to like a boss and put in his place less than twenty-four hours ago?”
She makes it sound different. She makes me sound strong. I am, I won’t deny that when it’s a hard-won strength, but it’s not a full picture. It’s much muddier than that and we all know it, even if we’re pretending to not acknowledge it. But I had all night to think about this, and a lifetime spent on trauma-focused self-therapy from Dr. Google, so I feel like I’ve got a pretty good grasp on what happened last night. Not the part with Austin, but the part with Cameron.
“Cameron’s right. He told me he would always put Grace first, and he absolutely, one hundred percent should. I should have too. Because it could’ve been her that opened the door yesterday, not me, and things would’ve been so… so different if that’d happened.”
The three women glance at each other, and I can feel their horror at the imagery that creates. I know it too well because I’ve been playing it out in my head on a loop ever since Cameron suggested it.
“Cameron might’ve acted harshly, but he’s not wrong,” I continue. “He lost Michelle, and last night, he could’ve lost Grace. I’m sure he felt like he almost did, which sliced open every one of his scars. Sending me away is his trauma showing up in full-force.” Kayla narrows her eyes, not liking where I’m going with this any more than I do. “But just because I understand why he told me to leave doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Miranda agrees, though she suggests hopefully, “Maybe you two can talk? You have such a good grasp on this—it’s impressive, really—but my son needs a little push to open up about his emotions. I tried, back when…” She pauses, and I can almost feel her fighting off the block she’s had about Michelle’s name for the last nine years. “Michelle passed, but it didn’t go all that well.” She looks haunted about whatever happened back then.
A little push?
I wrap my arms around my knees, thinking as I hug myself the way I wish Cameron had hugged all my pieces together last night. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“We fell in love. Neither of us meant for it to happen, but it did. Slowly at first, and then all at once. But I don’t think he really wants to love me. Not fully, not properly, not through good and bad, which is what life is. That hurts so much, but it’s the truth.” I look at Miranda, hoping she understands why I can’t just prompt Cameron to cope the way I want him to. It won’t work, but also, it’s not my place. It’s not my role. Mostly, I shouldn’t have to. “I’ve had a lot of hard lessons taught to me by life, but eventually, I want to be able to trust that my person has my back, and Cameron… doesn’t, no matter how much I wish he did. I don’t think it’s selfish to want someone who can give back the energy, care, and love that I give.”