Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
I slowed down at the end of the dirt road and looked both ways before the car hit asphalt.
“Last time, she said she could meet Cameron and me in the city for lunch,” he admitted. “Like, in Shaw.”
Ah. Near the apartment where the boys no longer lived—and hadn’t for months.
We were going on the first week we hadn’t visited our condo in town either, and… Okay, that was a problem for another time, but perhaps we should consider renting it out or getting rid of it. Noa didn’t work in the city anymore, I didn’t work at all, and Cam was cutting down on his hours.
Focus, idiot.
“When did she finish her last rehab program?” I asked.
“Umm…’bout a month ago?”
I nodded slowly as I made a turn, and in the end, did it matter how long ago Christine had left rehab? Over the years, I’d heard of at least seven or eight occasions KC and Noa had taken her to rehab. And that was before the divorce, at which point KC had surrendered their house completely. He’d given it to her, figuring she could sell it and use the money for a softer landing. So that she could take her time returning to work and, well, afford the next rehab stint.
“Did she go to rehab in the years you and KC didn’t speak?” I wondered.
Noa squinted in thought, then nodded. “Two or three times.”
And he’d been alone with her for all that time. I clenched my jaw in sheer regret. I’d been so focused on KC’s recovery back then that I’d never considered the fact that Noa would have to deal with Christine’s addictions on his own. I’d fooled myself with the illusion of comfort that Noa had his own place. KC had given him a nice little condo, the one in Shaw, and I’d…simply stopped at that.
I’d had my head so far up my ass because of work, KC, and my deteriorating relationship.
“I’m sorry you had to take care of her on your own, little one.” I grabbed Noa’s hand as soon as we made it onto the Beltway. “So much of what went down when KC and Christine got divorced was unfair to you, and I played a part in that.”
Noa knitted his brows together and played absently with my fingers. “I disagree. We can’t care about everything, and you and I had no, um, bond back then. I was just your best friend’s kid. You had a lot on your own plate.”
I shook my head, not a fan of his wording. “I was selfish. I only saw KC finally getting out of a sham of a marriage. Meanwhile, I’d known for years that he loved you so very much. But aside from telling him he was an idiot for not returning your calls, I let him avoid everything.”
A breath gusted out of him, and it was his turn to shake his head. “We both know it was more than that, Lucian. For one, KC’s a grown man—you can’t make him do anything. For two, Cameron’s told me all about your ex, and you know he was totally abusive, right? Like, he manipulated you and stuff?”
Oh, we did not need to go there.
I cleared my throat and switched lanes.
“Anyway,” he said. “Then the accident happened, and the divorce was the least of KC’s concerns. He went from skiing, rock-climbing, and freaking bungee jumping, to…you know.” He shrugged and brushed a finger along my thumb. “I’m glad you were there for him instead. Besides, I had Cameron.”
I swallowed hard, then brought his hand to my lips, and I kissed his knuckles.
“Okay, getting off track, but, um…do you think KC will ever regain more strength?” he asked hesitantly. He returned to playing with my fingers. “I mean, I know he’s found happiness again, but he was next level when he could chase his adrenaline rushes.”
I hummed, not necessarily agreeing with his last statement. “Sweetheart, did it ever occur to you that he was chasing adrenaline to mask a deeper unhappiness?”
Noa looked to me, visibly confused.
“You remember his parents,” I said. He nodded. “You know he felt he couldn’t be himself. And you also know his feelings for you terrified him the moment they began to change. You were closing in on your nineteenth birthday—”
“I remember,” he muttered.
I nodded with a dip of my chin. “His high-adrenaline hobbies helped him cope, Noa. He is without a doubt much, much happier today than he was back then.”
He considered what I’d said for a moment, slowly mulling things over. If we hadn’t been on the highway, I could’ve observed his expressions for a long time. Every change was clear as day.
“Okay, that’s fair,” he eventually decided. “But he could reach yet another level if he regained all his strength.”
“Hm.” Once again, I didn’t agree wholeheartedly, but it was a complicated answer. “I’m not going to sugarcoat the extent of his injuries. Of course he would’ve preferred never to have to use that chair again—or the cane, or the braces. But this is one of those instances where you just have to say life sucks sometimes. It sucks that he was in that accident, it sucks that he injured his spinal cord, and it sucks that he’ll likely never walk normally—”