39. Cade
Chapter 39
Cade
Memories flood me the instant we enter the cabin.
Everything’s familiar. Too familiar. Like I never really left.
I heard that saying once, you know, the priest or rabbi or whoever says, give me a kid for the first seven years of his life and he’ll be mine forever. I get it. This cabin is where I spent my childhood. My formative years. It still lives somewhere inside me. I worry it always will.
It’s dusty in here. Dad wouldn’t have cared, but I do.
Dad didn’t really care about much, after Mom died.
Grace looks around with a gentle curiosity. “It’s not very big.”
“No. Dad wasn’t rich. He didn’t want anything fancy, anyway.”
The cabin’s just one big room, with a bathroom, then the loft above, and a cellar below. It’s from back when people actually lived out here to work and had to keep their own food through the winter.
“I think Dad got this place off a family friend or something. It’s pretty old. I think it was a hunting cabin back in the day.” I nod at the ceiling. “There’s a loft. Originally for holding smoked meats. That’s where I slept. It was cozy, like a nest. That couch pulls out, it was Dad’s bed.”
“It’s pretty simple. But cozy.”
“Yeah. I guess. It was a shock coming here at first. We weren’t from around here, and Dad made a point to keep some distance between us and the people from the surrounding towns. He didn’t want to be near anyone who knew us—who’d known my mom.”
“Was she… a poor person? In character, I mean, not—not financially.”
“No. She was lovely. I barely remember her now. But Dad told me about her all the time. He loved her so—so fucking much. When she died he couldn’t take it. I don’t know what he was like before he lost her. Maybe he was just like me. Quiet. All that. Only happier. But uh… afterward… he left everything behind. Only cared about raising me. Hated people. Hated just about everything. Being unhappy was all he had left and he clung to it. I think he thought if he ever got happy it would be a betrayal. It would mean he’d stopped loving her.”
“Oh, Cade.” Grace takes my hand and leads me to the old, worn couch, encouraging me to sit down. “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been really hard for you, as a kid.”
She squeezes my hand. “You know that being happy isn’t a betrayal, right? I don’t want you to think that. Your mom must’ve loved you, and she’d want you to be happy. Every good parent wants that for their kid.”
I nod, a lump in my throat. It takes me a few times of clearing it to get the words out. “I know. Hard to feel it sometimes. But I know.”
“What happened to your father?”
“He died. That’s all there is to it. I couldn’t be here by myself so I came down to town, was enrolled in a proper school for the first time. It was a lot.”
“I can imagine.”
I loved my dad. But it changed me. I sometimes wonder what kind of person I’d be if my mom hadn’t died. If I would find words easier, and if I would be able to open up about my emotions like it wasn’t a big deal.
But I am who I am, and there’s no real changing that. I’m just lucky I have the friends in my life that I do, who accept me for who I am and support me.
“I tried to keep to myself. But Jesse, Easton, Hendrix… they drew me in. Wouldn’t let me be a loner. Easton understood. Losing a parent. Being an outsider. Jesse and Hendrix wanted to find ways to make us be happy again. Your brother was a big support too.”
Grace smiles and leans into me. “I’m glad. He’s a good man.”
“He really is. And you’re a good woman. You’ve been kind and patient with me. Even when I’ve been gruff with you.”
“Well, I know you’re just a big old softie beneath.”
Grace bumps our shoulders together and then rests her head on my shoulder. Trusting me. And comforting me, at the same time.
I wrap my arm around her. Her scent envelops me, fresh and familiar, a scent that I’d know in my bones. It soothes me.
“She was an Omega,” I add quietly. “I wanted you, when you were a Beta. It seemed safer then. Something casual. Or that’s what I told myself. But the moment we knew…”
My voice trails off.
“I told myself that letting my pack in was bad enough. They’re family to me. If I lost any of them, it’d feel like losing a piece of myself. I said, that’s it. That’s fine. Dad survived leaving his pack behind when Mom died, after all. But no more. Definitely never falling in love.”
“You told me, outside the bar. You wouldn’t ever fall in love.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember that. You were three sheets to the wind.”
Grace giggles. “I was. But I remember that. I remember because I felt so embarrassed. With how I behaved and how drunk I got.”
“Don’t be.” I pause. “I was wrong.”
Grace frowns at me. “About what?”
“About saying I would never fall in love.”
Grace’s blue eyes are so big and soft. It’s hard for me to find the words to speak, most of the time, but with Grace it’s a lot easier.
She smiles at me, and it’s everything. “I think I was wrong too.”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her.