I began to wonder if he could read my thoughts because of the sad way he watched me, like he missed that most of all too. So I said, “What?” hoping he’d finally share...something.
But he shook his head and glanced away as if to tell me he hadn’t been thinking anything worth noting. Then he said, “You drink coffee now.”
I glanced down at my cup in shock as if, wow, I did drink coffee now. He was right; I hadn’t done that when I’d known him before. Granted, I’d only been sixteen, but still... I used to complain about how my father made himself look so important whenever he drank his morning dose. Yet, here I was, drinking it now too.
Knox had noticed the change. It gave me a moment of petty satisfaction, not just because he’d actually noticed, but because he seemed sad about it.
I’d done nothing but see all his differences since he’d gotten out. They’d been shoved in my face repeatedly, screaming at me how he was not the same guy he’d been six years ago. It only seemed fitting that he’d finally see something different in me, and missed the loss of who I’d been.
I shrugged. “Yeah. The first roommate I had after leaving home was a big coffee drinker. She got me into the habit.”
His gaze sharpened. “Pick told me you left your family as soon as you turned eighteen. You don’t have anything to do with them now.”
A part of me wanted to be bitter and snap back, “I thought you didn’t want to talk,” but a bigger part of me was just so freaking glad he finally was.
Acting as casual as possible, I said, “That’s right,” as I took a sip of my drink.
“Why?” he said quietly, his eyes filling with confusion. “Why in God’s name did you disassociate yourself from them?”
I almost spit my coffee out I sputtered so hard from the shock. But really, why did he even need to ask me that? The Bainbridge clan had destroyed any loyalty or compassion I’d ever had for them the night they’d sent Knox to jail. I had begged each family member, cajoled and cried, reasoned and screamed at them. But not one of them had showed him any kind of mercy. Whatever had happened to him these past six years—every single scar on his body—was on their hands.
And so I’d escaped them as soon as it had been legally possible.
“Because they weren’t any kind of family to me,” I said. “When I needed them the most, they weren’t there for me.”
He shook his head. “But—”
“No.” I held up a hand because he didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it. He hadn’t been raised by a true family either. “In the past few months that I’ve worked at Forbidden, I’ve come to know what real family is. And they band together when the going gets tough, they support each other, rib and tease each other, trust each other, and most of all, they accept you for who you are. I never had any of that from my mother, father, or either of my brothers. And dissociating myself from them was the easiest, most amicable decision I ever made. I have never once regretted it.”
“What about college, though?” he pressed, watching me as if he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. “Your big dream. You were supposed to become a child psychologist.”
I sighed, remembering that dream fondly...but not missing the loss of it. Glancing at him, I said, “I decided I didn’t need a fancy degree to help people.”