She scowls at me. “First of all, stop cursing. Jesus and fucking don’t belong in the same sentence. Ever.”
My ears are burning, hearing that word, ‘fucking’ leaving my mom’s mouth. Mothers shouldn’t be allowed to utter things like that.
I pull my hands out of my pockets. “Sorry.”
She cups my cheek, her eyes softening. “Let me put the cake in to bake and then we can talk. It’s for tomorrow’s knitting club.”
I nod and head to the living room. I start to pace, unable to stand still. I feel the hate for Stephen rise inside me, potent and overpowering. He literally tore my life apart with no regard for collateral damage. He punished his own daughter for loving me. Was I that appalling in his eyes? Jesus. I couldn’t even protect Nor from him like I’d promised her. I’ve lived with people’s prejudices all my life, but Stephen’s was the worst kind of narrow-mindedness ever.
I fist my hands and swipe at my cheeks. Bitterness rises in me. Fury blinds my sight. I sit on the couch next to me and drop my face in my hands as the past twelve years come bearing down on me.
A touch on my arm stops the flood of memories. I wipe my face and look up to find Dad standing in front of me.
“It’s over,” he signs. “I’m so proud of you, Son.”
Those words touch me deeply. I stand up and grab him in a hug. He pats my back and just holds me. I don’t feel strong right now. I’m exhausted, feeling empty. I want everything to be fucking okay.
He pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “Do you remember when you were arrested? I was so angry with your mother and I blamed her for everything. I left her after you were sent to prison. Leaving her for the second time in my life was a very difficult decision for me. One evening, I was sitting in my hotel room, thinking about her. I loved, and still love, her with everything that I am. I came back home and we talked. We fought, and at the end we made up.”
His gaze wanders over my shoulder and he smiles as Mom joins us from the kitchen. “In your case, things got really messed up. But you cannot let Stephen win. If you love that girl as much as you say you do, nothing will stand in your way. Nothing should stand in the way of true love.”
My mom pulls me down to sit on the couch. “Do you know what Josh told me a few years ago after he was diagnosed with cancer? His mission in life was to keep you safe. Sometimes things happen in life for different reasons. For him, it was life’s way of giving him a family he knew he’d never have. And for you and Nor, it was a test of time. A test of love. Please don’t let his sacrifice go to waste.”
I drop my head and finally let the grief I’ve been holding back sweep through me. My parents’ arms around me offering me comfort I desperately need.
Fuck, Josh. You wise-ass. I could never repay you for everything you have done for me.
Eventually, after a long talk with my parents, we settle down and Mom puts together a chicken sandwich for me.
Later, I lie in bed and try to sort out my thoughts. I have no fucking clue where to begin, but one thing is for certain. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure Nor and the girls have the kind of life they deserve.
A WEEK HAS PASSED SINCE I told Cole what happened. He has been coming to the house ever since and spending time with our daughters. It’s been awkward as we tiptoed around each other, trying to find a middle ground. A sense of balance where the past nine years didn’t loom above us like a nightmare. I’m grateful for his strength, for being there for our girls.
A book slams on a wood surface, jolting me out of my thoughts. I look over my shoulder to Elon. She frowns and huffs, her movements jerky around her knitting needles.
Sighing, she picks up the book from the floor and shoves it inside the basket at her feet with more force than necessary.
“Hey Elon, is everything okay with you?”
Her hands freeze. She jerks her head up from the red and white sweater she’s knitting and looks at me.
“Yes. Everything is just perfect,” she replies, prolonging the ‘r’ in perfect. She clears her throat. “Do you need me to deliver those to Mrs. Fredericks?” She’s pointing at the bouquet of flowers in my hands while folding the sweater and arranging it inside the basket beside the book.
“Holy crap. Your pants are on fire, Pinocchio.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Stop changing the subject. Mrs. Fredericks doesn’t need them delivered until later on tonight. Everything going well in school?” She nods, climbing to her feet and stretching her arms above her head. “Nothing exciting? Like maybe a hot guy?”
She bites her cheek and bends down at the waist to pick up her basket. She’s been spending more time at home the past three weeks, which is something she hasn’t done since she started school two years ago.
“Nope. Nothing that exciting,” she mutters, marching toward the counter and tossing her bag under it. “I should be asking you that. We haven’t had time to talk since Cole came back.”