Chapter 7
I was so lost in the pain of the past that the relief I felt when I turned the corner and my parents' property came into view was immense.
Clara was waiting in the driveway when I pulled up.
Jackson was already seated in the back, the engine running, her window half-down as she scrolled through her phone.
They were living with our parents now, just until the divorce was finalized and Clara could find a new place. She’d said that like it was a decision she’d made calmly, on her own timeline. But I knew better. Her ex had been fighting it. Claiming they weren’t over. That they could work it out.
Clara had been very clear.
There was no coming back from what he’d done.
She hadn’t told me the full story yet, just said she would, when she had the space to breathe, when the ground stopped shaking beneath her feet.
I hadn’t pushed. What she and Mason had... Well, we all thought they were like our parents, high school sweethearts that everyone held as a couple goal. She got pregnant the last year of university and had Jackson after she graduated.
She helped Mason start up his business and then started her own.
So if she left him... If they were at a point of no return, it had to be bad.
And I understood what it felt like to live inside a moment you hadn’t processed yet. To feel like you thought you were living in a dream until you were hit with something so monumental that you realized you weren't dreaming... You were in a living nightmare.
I climbed into the front seat and gave Jackson a quick smile over my shoulder.
"Hey, buddy."
Jackson gave me a big smile and said, "Aunt Cass, I can't believe you are actually going to come to one of my games."
The guilt was immediate. I had missed so much this past year. I had pulled away from my family and let myself get lost.
"I know, buddy, I am sorry that I haven't yet. But I will make it up to you, I promise."
We pulled out of the driveway, and I looked out my window. Trying to center myself again, but the ache in my chest wouldn't let up.
Clara glanced at me. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “No.”
We drove in silence for a moment before she said, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
I didn’t answer.
She turned onto the road toward the rink. “Is it about the guy? The one you've been seeing?”
I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek. My family didn’t know much.
Just that I’d been seeing someone, I wanted to keep it private for a while.
Now that felt like shame I had sealed behind glass.
“I don’t know,” I said finally. “Maybe. Yeah. It’s about him… us. But also me. I need to think.”
Clara nodded, not pressing. Just listening.
“I think it needs to be over,” I added, softer this time. “I... it has to be.”
She looked at me again, but didn’t say anything more.
And I was grateful.
The rink was cold, loud, and chaotic, just as kids’ sports often are.
We found seats halfway up the bleachers. I threw my hood up halfway through the first period when the chill finally sank in.
Clara laughed, pulled me closer. “You’re such a wimp.”
“I run cold.”
“Sure you do.” She wrapped her arm around me anyway. “I’m sorry you’re going through something shitty,” she murmured. “But I’m really glad you came home. Have you thought about moving back? I could use my sister.”
I smiled faintly, but didn’t answer.
The truth was, I could use my sister, too.
The game ended. Jackson’s team lost by one goal, but he looked thrilled anyway.
We stood in the lobby near the exit, waiting for him to come out with the team.
My phone had been buzzing all day. I’d ignored it until now.
But standing still gave me too much space to think.
I pulled it out and scrolled through the messages.
Andrew: I miss you.
I hate how we left things last night.
Can we talk?
I want to make this right.
Let’s plan a night just for us. Or a weekend away. One where I can stay.
I’m serious about our future, Cassidy.
My stomach turned.
He was always serious when he was scared of losing me.
That was when the words came out. The plans. The promises.
And I’d always believed them. I had to, or the reality of what we wrestle would crush me.
I wish I could go back and tell the girl who changed his name in her contact from Last First Date to Andrew to listen to her gut, her mind and ignore her fucking heart.
I was staring at my screen, heart caught somewhere between rage, sorrow and disbelief, when Clara started talking to someone in front of us.
I looked up.
A woman was smiling at my sister. She looked to be in her late thirties, blonde and beautiful in that effortless, old-money kind of way. Green eyes. Perfect smile. Like she was carved from privilege.
Clara smiled and introduced us.
“This is my sister Cassidy. Cass, this is...”
But I wasn’t listening.
Because he was walking up behind her.
Andrew.
He stopped beside the woman, just slightly behind her. Like he didn’t expect to be noticed.
My heart dropped straight into my stomach.
What the fuck was he doing here?
At a seven-year-old's hockey game?
Was it his friend’s kid? The one he bought the book for?
My thoughts scrambled. None of them made sense.
He pulled out his phone, typed something, and slid it into his coat pocket.
And then he looked up.
Our eyes locked.
My heart lodged in my throat.
My phone pinged.
I looked down and saw the new message.
Andrew: I’m not giving up on us. I told her it's over. I promise. It can finally be me and you.
I looked up again and saw her watching me.
The blonde. The wife. Victoria.
Her expression wasn’t surprised.
It was knowing.
My chest tightened; it felt like I couldn't breathe. And then...
It got worse.
Jackson came sprinting toward us, grinning from ear to ear. "Aunt Cass, did you see my goal?"
Behind him was a boy I didn’t recognize at first.
Until I focused on his features, and I did.
Same eyes. Same smile. Same fucking face.
The boy skidded to a stop and looked at Andrew.
“Dad, can we go for ice cream with them?”
Clara smiled gently at them like this was all fucking normal. “Not this time, sweetheart. We’ve got a family BBQ.”
But I wasn't really listening anymore. Because the boy... he...
Dad.
The boy had called him Dad.
Clara turned to me. “Are you okay, Cassidy?”
I couldn’t speak.
I stammered something about needing the bathroom, barely heard my own voice.
I turned and walked fast.
I had to move, to get away.
Down the hallway. Around the corner.
Into the bathroom, where I braced my hands against the counter.
I stared at myself in the mirror, willing the room to stop spinning.
Andrew had a son.
I knew about his wife. But he was with her, while texting me, that they were done.
He has a fucking child. He said they didn't...
They had a whole life.
A sob rattled through me.
I’d been the secret tucked into the shadows of his world, their life.
I had been exactly what I was terrified of being, the homewrecker, the lie, the dirty secret... And she looked at me like she knew...
Had anything he told me been real?
Bile surged up my throat, and I ran for the first stall that was open and barely got the door closed behind me.
Everything I’d been afraid of was true. I was the secret, the shadow, the woman on the wrong side of his story.