Chapter 11 #2
I believe her. I’m still angry, and I still feel betrayed, but I believe her. And I have no doubt Roman would have used me to get back at her. Because it’s the kind of thing Kade would do, and Kade is just like his father, and I think he knows it.
“When I found out Roman was dead,” she concludes with a sigh, “I thought I might try to build some sort of relationship with Kade, but he’s too angry and bitter for that right now.”
“I understand why you kept it a secret, but I still wish I had found out from you and not Kade.” I ignore the way my heart clenches inside my chest. “Now, please tell me there aren’t any other dark family secrets I’m going to discover by accident,” I say it more as a joke, but my mom looks down at her hands, her chin tucked, and I know. No. No. I can’t do this.
I scramble over the edge of the bed and grab her upper arms. “What is it? What else could there possibly be?”
“Well, if we’re clearing the air completely, there is something you should know. You’re adopted.” She smoothes a hand over my cheek, but I can barely feel it through the buzzing that fills my head. Two things happen simultaneously.
I’m hit with immense relief, knowing that Kade isn’t my real brother, but at the same time, I’m confused and hurt and unable to wrap my head around what she just said.
Adopted.
“Adopted?” I whisper the question.
“Yes. Adopted.”
“Really?”
She gives me a confused look. “I haven’t been entirely forthcoming in the past, sure, but I’m not lying now.”
I grit my teeth and bite back the venom that floods forward in my head. If I get snappy, she’ll clam up. “Who were they? My real parents.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Parent, as I don’t know who your father was. I only knew your mother, and I didn’t know her well.”
I swallow hard and try to think. “Okay, then tell me what you do know about her.”
“She was a farm hand here at the ranch the year before you were born. When I found out she was pregnant, I tried to help her. She was as stubborn as a mule and refused any and all assistance. The only thing I could do was watch over her. I was constantly worried, especially with her being surrounded by rough-and-tumble men and transients only looking for a buck.” My mother smiles.
“I like to think that’s where you get your stubborn determination from. ”
“How did I become yours?”
“Well, your mother was young, barely eighteen, and just a kid herself. She struggled those first couple of months after you were born. At some point, she decided that being stubborn wasn’t doing her any good, so she let me help her.
I taught her what I could.” She pauses, like she’s reliving the moment.
It’s weird to think of my mother being so caring and kind. Not that she isn’t usually, but there’s a certain coldness about her now.
“Then one day she came to me and asked if I would take you. I was shocked and told her no, but she wouldn’t let me refuse.
She wanted to give you a better life and said I could do that for you.
I had the means, and I wanted another child.
I felt guilty about keeping you at first, but the feeling gradually faded.
It got easier when I told myself I was doing what your birth mother wanted. ”
“At least she did it out of love, though, right?”
“I have no doubts that your mother loved you. To give her child away, to be so selfless because she wanted you to have more, better, takes a certain kind of love.”
“Did she ever come back to the ranch?”
Mom shakes her head. “No, though I did try to find her. I wanted to tell you when you were younger, but I was worried that it would make you feel like you didn’t belong.”
It hurts that this was kept from me, but in some ways, I understand why.
It doesn’t mean I’m not angry or that I don’t feel betrayed, but I get it.
Knowing wouldn’t have changed anything. I could’ve looked for her, yes, but as a child, it’s tough to understand adoption and what it is.
It’s difficult for me right now, and my brain is mostly developed.
“It makes sense.”
“I understand if you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just… I don’t know what I am right now.”
“Maybe we can talk a little more in-depth about this another day when you’re feeling better. And... showered.”
I snort and shake my head. “Maybe. Right now, it’s a lot to take in. The confession regarding Kade, and now this.”
“I know, but now that the truth is out, we can finally start to heal. And maybe even become a family?” She sounds, dare I say, hopeful?
Like she might be able to twist this into some happily ever after.
I’m sure we’ll be able to mend the broken pieces and become a family unit in the future, but not right now.
I don’t have the mental capacity to continue talking about this.
I’m torn between anger and understanding. Torn between knowing my mother did what she had to do while also knowing she had plenty of time to tell me the truth.
Satisfied with herself, she presses a kiss to my forehead and disappears from the room.
My phone screen lights up on the nightstand, and I consider ignoring it. With how all over the place I’m feeling right now, I might do something stupid and text Kade, which is not what I need right now. I smile when I see it’s a text from my bestie and not the devil.
Saint: We need to hang out and catch up.
It’s like she knew I was in distress and needed her. I smile and type out a response, hitting Send right away.
Me: Yes, we do. Want to meet at The Rusty Nail? I could use a drink.
Saint: Yes! Meet you there at seven.
At seven? I check the time on my phone. Shit, that’s in an hour. I type out my response, hit Send, and then rush into the bathroom. I sort through my emotions while I shower.
Kade isn’t my brother, at least by relation.
I’m adopted. Which means Kade is the rightful heir to the Porter dynasty, and in that case, he should be the one marrying Jackson, right?
I’ve only solved a small portion of my problems. Now I have to find a way to escape this arranged marriage because telling Jackson I don’t want to marry him isn’t good enough.
My mother will not accept that. What I need is for Jackson to be fed up with me and embarrassed enough to call off the wedding altogether.
And I’m in enough of a mood tonight to potentially make that happen.
But that’s secondary to a night with my best friend.
Something in me lightens because I need this. God, do I need this.