CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
Scared out of my fucking mind, in so much pain I thought death might be a welcome reprieve, it was her voice that kept me grounded, her grip on my hand that anchored me, gave me strength.
And when I woke up after hours of surgery, certain I would find my parents sitting at my bedside, a knot of disappointment tied in my chest anticipating her absence.
Opening my eyes to find her still there, at my side, didn't just unleash a wave of relief, it realigned the most intrinsic parts of me.
I'd been so pissed for so long that my life was forfeit alongside my father's, that I stopped giving a shit if I lived or died.
I knew I needed to live. That my family needed me.
That I was a vital piece required to ensure a secure life for my mother and siblings.
But the weight of that responsibility, that need, had stripped me bare, hollowed me out, until all I had fueling me on each day was fear and rage.
I had a purpose, but no soul. Trent and Lena gave me whispers of life whenever I was around them, but it wasn't until that day in the hospital, opening my eyes to have them lock on Liz's, that my world fell back into orbit.
Before that, I thought I'd never have anything for myself ever again. It was absurd to think, but I was so young and the expectations of me so vast, the emotions I found swimming in the depths of those vivid irises struck me like a fist to the chest.
I'd always been able to read her eyes. Always attributed the skill to our mirrored paths. It was easy to makes sense of hers when mine told the same stories every time I saw my reflection.
Wasn't until that moment, the flash of understanding that she and I shared so much more than the same shit fate of being the eldest child in a broken family.
The one who had to step up, become the second parent, grow up before their childhood was over.
Who didn't just grieve the loss of that absent parent, but the piece of themselves that disappeared to become what was needed to fill the gaping cracks of their splintering homes.
The same relief I felt at finding her beside me shone in her eyes as well. Somewhere, in the midst of hating each other for being so lost, we'd found each other.
The connection was fleeting. My parents showed up. Liz left. And the next time we crossed paths we both fell right back into our old habits. Harder than ever.
And it took me until now to understand it was because we finally saw something we wanted. Something that was only ours to lose. And maybe neither one of us had the emotional bandwidth to carry the weight of that kind of risk then. Maybe we still don't.
Fourteen years later, and we're right back to where we started. Both of us stepping into the lives of those we loved no longer here to live them. Trying to do right by them. To honor their wishes and pray they're at peace knowing we're here to carry on. That the faith they had in us was deserved.
The truth is, we have more to lose than ever. But this time, I refuse to become the bones of my purpose and forfeit my soul in the name of carrying on.
My heart's been out of reach forever, locked away with those connected by blood and a shared youth. The secret paths Trent and Lena carved, passed on to their children, but no one else has made it in.
No one else was ever going to.
I knew that. It's why letting Casey go was the only right thing to do.
Why I never meant for her to get so close in the first place. I've held people at bay all of my adult life. Told myself it was smart. Sensible. That I didn't have time or energy to give to anyone else.
Women came and went, all believing I was too afraid and too damaged to know my own heart.
All but one.
"No pajamas," I say, when she comes out of her bathroom wearing only a towel and walking straight for the top drawer of her dresser.
Do I know it's her underwear and sleep stuff drawer? Yeah.
Should I? Fuck no.
But I use the laundry room in the house too, and sometimes her things get left in the dryer.
And instead of throwing them in a basket and leaving them as one more thing for her to do around here, I fold the clothes and put them away.
The fact she's yet to figure out I do this probably once or twice a month, only proves the fact she's doing more than she can keep track of, trying to keep the house, the kids, and her business going.
As does the fact, she walked right past where I'm sitting on the edge of her bed in plain view, mind too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" she snaps, clutching her towel to her chest as she spins around.
"Making sure you don't put on sweats and a tank top," I tell her, pushing up to walk toward her.
"Excuse me?" she glowers at me but doesn't move from her spot at the dresser.
"You heard me," I tell her, smirking as I hold out a pair of jeans and a lacey little number in sage green. "Here. I had some time to peruse your closet while you were in the shower."
Her eyes zero in on the sexy top. "Let's set aside the creep factor that comes with you letting yourself into my room to go through my things while I'm naked in the next room and unaware of your close and uninvited proximity," she says, "and move on to why the hell you're attempting to deny me pajamas.
I don't need to dress up for pizza night with Holly and the kids. "
"True," I grin at her, waving the clothes in front of her as if that might entice her to take them. "But you do need to dress up for me."
She crosses her arms. "No one invited you to pizza night."
I nod. "Yeah. We'll address how I'm going to start coming to those later. Right now, you need to get dressed." I toss the clothes at her, forcing her to catch them.
"Why?"
I smirk, backing up toward the door. "Because you're coming to work with me."