Chapter 33
33
AURORA
Without an umbrella, the rain plasters my hair and face in seconds. I blink to clear my vision as droplets collect in my eyelashes and leave the building, my legs pumping and pumping until I’m not walking but running instead.
My sneakers pound the pavement, the erratic thump of my heartbeat in my ears. Most people don’t so much as look up from their phones as I brush past them, and those who do dismiss me without much thought. Nobody knows who I am, and that makes it all that much easier to let my tears escape, falling down my cheeks alongside the rain.
A pain so hot it burns like pressing an iron to my chest pushes me to run faster. I want to scream from the lack of oxygen in my lungs and the fact I was such a fool to come here. My mom knew it the entire time.
Riley Rose isn’t any more my father than he is a simple sperm sample. I wasn’t expecting him to fill a role that isn’t void in my life, but to be brushed off so easily, without a care . . . I clench my teeth to hide a sob.
This city is unfamiliar, and the further I venture inside of it, the more turned around I get. I don’t stop running, though. Even as the warning grows louder in my pounding skull. What would be so bad about getting lost?
I stumble upon a park a few minutes later. It’s empty, the rain apparently pissing all over everyone’s plans for an afternoon walk. Slowing my pace, I pass through the gap in the fence. The grass is thick and green here, glistening with water beneath my feet. Everything is soaked, but I drop onto a wooden bench, anyway, not caring that my ass grows wet in an instant.
Only once I’ve sat and closed my eyes do I clue in to the way my body shakes and my lips are dry despite the rain. I lick them and press two fingers to the back of my hand. My skin is ice-cold. I let my shoulders fall forward and hunch over my knees before pulling my phone from my pocket and dialling the number I’ve avoided for a month.
She answers on the first ring. Just one single word, but one that forces every sob I’ve stomped down to come all the way up.
“Aura.”
“Mom.”
“What’s wrong?”
I almost laugh. If I wasn’t sobbing through my teeth, I would have. “What isn’t wrong?”
“You went to see him,” she says, certainty blaring from every word.
“You can say I told you so,” I whisper.
“If there was ever something I wanted to be wrong about, it was this. I’ve never, ever wanted you to get hurt, baby girl.”
“Why him, Mom? He’s . . . he’s horrible.”
There’s a pause, and I can hear the soft sound of background noise disappear completely, as if she’s done everything to ensure I’m her main focus.
“He wasn’t always horrible?—”
“I don’t want to hear all the good things about him,” I interrupt.
“If you don’t hear the good, how will you be able to understand why I made the choices I did? You deserved to hear these things before you left, but I didn’t offer them to you because I was too hurt and full of regret. You need to hear them now, Aurora.”
I lean back against the bench and shove my dripping hair back and out of my face. “Fine.”
“I met Lee on my eighteenth birthday. There used to be a summer fair put on a few minutes outside of Cherry Peak that drew people in from all over the province, Calgary included, and my friends insisted we go to celebrate my birthday. I had on one of those silly birthday girl sashes and a tiara that we got at the dollar store, and because most of the rides had teenage boys controlling them, I got teased consistently for them. Their comments and jokes didn’t matter because I was with my friends, but Lee was there with his own friends and overheard a few of them poking fun at me. He was nineteen at the time and already larger than life itself. I remember thinking it was a birthday miracle that this tall, handsome guy was there, threatening to shove one of the guys into one of the Ferris wheel seats and leave him at the top all night if he didn’t leave me alone.
“Both my friends and his convinced him to let it go, and I think I was already in love with him by the time he asked me to grab an ice cream with him afterward. I hadn’t dated before, not seriously, and Lee . . . he was funny and kind and protective. Being in his presence was like staring down at the world and finally seeing everything great about it. That night changed a lot for me, but it was the first time I ever felt seen. Your grandparents disapproved of him, only seeing a no-good, upcoming musician who wasn’t worthy of their daughter because he had nothing to show for himself yet. I didn’t care what they thought, and so the rift between us started. The one that lingered far longer than my relationship with him and now haunts you as well.”
“Your parents were always arrogant assholes, Mom,” I say on a breath, rubbing at my chest absent-mindedly.
“Yeah, baby. They were. But at one time, they did want what was best for me. I often think about how if I had listened to their advice and left your father when they wanted me to, that I never would have had you, and you, Aurora? You’re the most precious gift I’ve ever received. I’d go through a million broken hearts and painful memories if it meant I got you at the end of every story.”
I sniffle, furiously wiping at my eyes and cheeks. It’s hopeless. The tears don’t stop falling, and neither does the rain.
Mom doesn’t wait for me to reply before speaking again. “Lee and I were together nearly every day for three years. I was happy , sweetheart. He was everything I thought I could ever want, and he treated me very well. It might be hard to believe now, after everything you’ve seen and learned these past few weeks, but it’s the truth. When we broke up, I thought I’d never be able to be that happy again. It wasn’t until I found out I was pregnant three months after I saw him for the last time that I knew it was possible to feel that feeling again. With you.”
“Did he know?” I blurt.
“About what?”
“About me, Mom. Did he know you were pregnant with me?”
“After we broke up, he moved to Toronto?—”
I cut her off again, knowing that on a normal day, she’d have reamed me out for being so rude. “I don’t care that he moved. I just want to know if he knew.”
“No, he didn’t. I tried a million times to tell him. You’ve seen the stack of letters, Aurora. Every single one was returned to me without being opened. They were my only way of reaching him, and he refused to read even one of them. I couldn’t continue sending them once you hit the six-month-old mark. Every time I opened the mailbox and saw another returned, it broke that much more of me. I had to move on. And I did. I moved on, raised you by myself, and never paid Lee Rose another moment of thought. It was the best thing I could have ever done for myself. And for you. People change, even when we wish they wouldn’t. And sometimes, it’s for the worst.”
“You kept the letters. And the photo. If you were so done with it, why not burn them all?”
“I could have. I almost did on multiple occasions, but those letters, while painful for me to read and see, hold memories of you. Of every battle we faced and every milestone that I bragged to him about. Everything I have ever done has been for you, Aura. Every single thing. I’m sorry I’ve failed you with this.”
I’ve stopped trying to wipe my face dry. Every blink of my eyes forces more warm tears to mix with the freezing drops of rain. It feels like there’s a hole in my stomach, and with every word I hear my mom speak, it doubles in size. Despite all the things I wish I had, I never needed a father growing up. How could I have when I had a mother who filled both roles the way she did? But when I met my stepfather, I didn’t hesitate to let him in to take some of the weight from her shoulders. We formed a family made from love and care, not obligation and resentment. If Lee had opened those letters and come back into our lives, would I be able to say the same thing?
“He remembered you, Mom. I saw the look in his eyes when I mentioned you. For a second, I thought he recognized me too. Or at least that he saw something in me that made him believe the words I was saying. But I was wrong.”
“You have his eyes,” she says softly. “If nothing else, he would have recognized those pretty blues of yours.”
“Well, if he did, he didn’t care. He all but shoved me off his doorstep with a quick dismissal. I don’t know what I was thinking leaving Calgary.”
“Yes, you do. You wanted to learn about your history, and I’ve always known that one day, you may choose to do that very thing. It’s your right. I should have brought it up to you earlier, on my own. I’ve had thirty years to tell you about the other half of your family history, and I’m sorry that I never did. I’m sorry that I lied to you instead. ”
I ignore her apologies for now, not trusting my emotions. “What are his parents like? I’ve been working with the Steele family in Cherry Peak, and they told me about them. Said I could meet them if I wanted to.”
“Bernice and James are still in Cherry Peak? You’re working with the Steeles? Who? Wade and Eliza?”
“Which question would you like me to answer first?” I ask, almost laughing at the rush of questions. “No, Bernice and James aren’t still in Cherry Peak. They’re up in Edmonton. Close enough I could go and meet them. And Wade and Eliza, I’ve been helping them with the ranch’s finances. Do you know them?”
“I don’t know them. Not really. But their names were on everyone’s tongues in that town for the short time I was there. They’re good people,” she answers before sighing. “The Roses are your grandparents just as much as my parents are. If you met them, I have a feeling you’d have a much warmer response than you did from Lee.”
“And if I don’t? I can’t take another rejection right now.”
“Then you walk out and don’t ever go back. I know it hurts right now, but you have to ask yourself if you’ll regret not meeting them and closing this chapter of your life or if you’ll be happy without knowing.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
I swallow, another wave of emotion swelling before drowning me in one fell swoop. “I’m sorry for not calling and for everything I sai?—”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she soothes. “I just wanted to know you were okay. You’re plenty old enough to take care of yourself, but you’re still my daughter, and I’m still your mom. I’ll always worry.”
“I was so mad at you. It felt like you betrayed me and that I’d lost something I never knew I’d even had in the first place,” I admit amongst the tears scalding my cheeks. “I don’t like secrets. We’ve never had them between us before.”
Her breath hitches, causing her reply to be wavered. “Your feelings are valid , Aurora. Anger is healthy, and so is pain. You just can’t bottle it up, or you’ll risk exploding from the pressure of ignoring it. I’m your mother, and I can take the hit always. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so deeply.”
“Tell me what to do now,” I croak.
“I can’t, baby girl. You have to do what you need to heal from this. Do you want to come home, or do you want to stay and learn more about your family?”
“They’re not my family.”
“But they could be.”
Her words shake me. Suddenly, I’m smacked with the realization that I’ve already found family in Cherry Peak, and while I don’t share blood with a single one of them, it doesn’t matter. I’m sitting on this bench by myself, but I don’t feel alone. I haven’t for weeks now.
“I met someone, Mom.” I whisper the words so softly it’s like I’m afraid of speaking them out loud, even for my own ears. “He came with me to meet Lee.”
“Tell me about him.”
I inhale deeply, finally feeling some of the constriction around my throat loosen. With the sleeve of Johnny’s coat, I wipe my eyes. They don’t fill with tears immediately after this time.
“He’s my opposite. An easygoing extrovert that could smile every minute of every day. I’ve grown distracted in Cherry Peak, and I’m glad I have because it meant I got to spend more time with him. You’d like him, I think. He’s a believer in all things universe related.”
“And you haven’t gotten tired of his energy? Because I remember that one boy from middle school who you said wouldn’t stop following you down the halls telling you those jokes from the book he carried everywhere. You told me you were going to shove the book into his mouth and make him eat it,” she says with a soft laugh.
“That’s the thing. I haven’t grown tired of it at all. If anything, I think he’s been pulling me out of my shell. I’ve met friends here, Mom. Good ones that don’t care if I have resting bitch face or struggle to start conversations out of nothing. I don’t have to fill awkward silence or feel bad about not wanting to go out after work. They accept me.”
She sucks in a sharp breath before I hear her cry. It’s hardly audible, but I catch it instantly. “So not all was lost, then. You’re happy there.”
“Yeah, I’m happy.”
Really happy. Scarily happy. Somehow, everything I wasn’t expecting to find in Cherry Peak, I did.
“I hope you know that you don’t have to come back here. Not for me and your dad. Not for yourself. Not for anyone. Do you understand me, Aurora Bennett?”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that it’s not that simple. Not right now, when emotions are so high and I’m shaking like a leaf in the rain.
“I love you, Mom,” I say instead.
“I love you more, Aura. Please don’t take so long to talk to me next time. I missed your voice so much.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
After a few more words, we hang up, and I tuck my phone away before it can get any more wet than it already is. Some of the pressure on my chest is gone. But there’s still so much left. Questions and decisions and hard calls that I don’t want to think about making right now.
Instead, I stand and start back the way I came. Only I don’t get far before I’m halting and blinking profusely to make sure I’m not seeing things. Because leaning against the fence, his hair soaked and curling into his eyes, is Johnny.