Chapter Thirty-One
If someone had shown me this moment a year ago—me in a grey graduation gown, hair soft around my shoulders, cap pinned neatly in place—I would’ve laughed. Or cried. Or both.
But here I was.
Standing in the line with the rest of my class, the June sun warming the back of my neck, the buzz of excited talking and the occasional “Don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip” mantra floating through the air.
I wasn’t supposed to make it to graduation.
But I did. And before me was a future so open and filled with possibilities I didn’t know what to do with it.
After I made up with Paxon, that very night, I was finally able to check my college applications.
I made it into a couple and settled on the same one as Bryan at Clarkson.
There was a professor there who did her research around music therapy, which ended up being the deciding factor for me.
I wanted to work under her, especially after I looked into her past research and the contributions she made.
She was a big supporter of Hope’s Embrace too.
It turned out my dad knew her as well, so she was excited to meet me at the start of the semester, especially since she knew and used the songs I created for Hope’s Embrace.
Mr. Ferris tapped the mic, breaking me from my thoughts as he asked the audience to settle as the graduation ceremony began and we were ready to finally walk across the stage. People hushed, but not by much, because it was graduation and no one actually expected silence.
I scanned the crowd, trying to pick out the faces in the packed bleachers. They were so far away that it wasn’t easy, even though my family and friends had told me where they’d be sitting. It still took me a moment.
I found Dad first, holding up his phone like the proud parent I never expected to see at my graduation. Janice sat beside him, already wiping tears—another surprise I hadn’t dared hope for.
I spotted my lawyer, Amy Rivera. She had become someone so important to me, always on my side, always willing to stand up for me. Next to her was Lindie, who had been released from the hospital in early May.
She sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap, eyes trained on the program in front of her. Her hair was neatly combed, her outfit simple, clean, appropriate. For the first time in my life, she looked ordinary. Like any other parent attending their kid’s graduation.
Except she wasn’t like that. Not really.
She looked my way before glancing away. And somehow, that tiny flicker of acknowledgement was enough to twist my happiness inside my chest.
The ceremony finally began. Names were called.
Students walked across to cheering and clapping.
Since my last name was Wiles, I had to watch as all the guys graduated before me.
Even Micah. I tried my best to be one of the loudest for all of them.
Hazel and Lillian were actually not too far behind me, only a couple of people between us, so between the three of us, we made sure they could hear us.
And then it was my turn all too soon, but not soon enough.
“Cadence Wiles.”
Everything inside me stilled. I stepped forward. The walk felt surreal, like I was floating through a memory that hadn’t been written yet. The cheers swelled, filling the stadium.
I was able to safely grab my diploma, shake Principal Calgary’s hand as she grinned wide. “I’m so proud of you, Cadence. You deserve this moment so much, and I can’t wait to see what kind of woman you become.”
Her words hit me hard, and I had to blink to keep from crying and ruining the makeup Hazel and Lillian made me wear.
“Thank you,” I croaked before forcing myself to walk away.
I held up my diploma for everyone to see.
My dad and Janice were on their feet, cheering and whooping, but not as loud as the guys.
They had traded seats around so all four were sitting together and holy crap were they so loud.
I laughed and cried and made my way off the stage before I held up the line.
As I was going down the stairs, I looked at Lindie.
She was clapping. It was slow and stiff, but she still did and that oddly enough felt so good to see.
When I stepped off the stage, I exhaled a breath I felt like I’d been holding for years.
Once everyone got their diplomas and we tossed our caps into the air and cheered, the ceremony ended and the football field broke out into pure chaos.
Families were hugging and crying. Cameras flashing nonstop all around, flowers everywhere.
Friends practically screeching as they met up with each other.
My dad wrapped me in the biggest hug of them all.
“My little Cadie,” he murmured, squeezing me until I squeaked. “I’m so proud of you. So unbelievably proud.”
I buried my face in his shoulder. “Thank you. For everything.”
I didn’t even have a chance to draw in a breath as I pulled away before Janice hugged me next, soft and warm and smelling like peppermint lotion. “You deserve all of this and more.”
When we finally pulled away, Amy was there with Lindie. Amy hugged me. “Congratulations, Cadence. You fought for this. Remember that.”
“Thank you,” I croaked, beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the attention.
And then Lindie approached awkwardly.
“Congratulations,” she said in a voice that still carried that slight husk. “You did well.”
It wasn’t emotional. It didn’t need to be. She showed up and that spoke more than anything she could say.
“Thank you,” I said gently.
We stood there for a moment, two people tied only by blood, with too much distance between them.
“I found a house,” she said after a beat, glancing down at her bag. “Thanks to the lawyer you set me up with and with your father’s help. It’s nice.”
“I’m glad.”
“I start work next week,” she added. “Administrative assistant. It’s not much but...it’s something.”
“It’s a good start,” I said softly. “I think it’ll be good for you.”
She nodded once. “And...thank you. I know what you did. What most would have done, but you refused to do.” She swallowed and looked away. “I’m very aware of that.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Guilt? Gratitude? Regret? I wasn’t sure and at this point, I didn’t think I needed to know either. She was Lindie. That was all there was to it. At this point, I did what I wanted to do. I got her help, and she was well on her way back on her feet.
Lindie felt the same too. I could see it. After this, there was no telling who we’d become to each other, but I wasn’t going to cling to her, and she knew better than to cling to me too.
As her shoulders relaxed, Lindie stepped back, letting my dad take over again, falling to the edge of the group. Present but not looming. Not threatening. Not hurting.
Just there.
The moment my family gave me space, I was attacked by Toby.
“Candy pop, you did it!” He grabbed me and spun me around before I could protest.
“Toby, put me down!”
“No can do,” he said, laughing into my hair. “Graduation requires ritual sacrifice. Which I will accept in the form of a hug.”
I gave him the hug he desperately needed and whispered to him. “Congratulations. You managed to pass physics.”
He laughed. “Damn right, and it looks beautiful on my transcripts.”
Justin was next, pulling me into a quieter, steadier embrace. “Proud of you,” he murmured, as if it were a secret.
“Same,” I whispered back. “We both made it.”
He squeezed me hard, knowing exactly what I meant.
He was another one as lucky as me to survive our pasts, and I was grateful for that every fucking day.
The thought of a life without him—of him not making it after his father’s final beating that landed him in the hospital—was horrifying. Too close to my own story.
Bryan followed with a soft smile, his own grey graduation gown somehow managing to stay immaculate while all ours became ruffled. “Knew you’d get there,” he said. “You’re unstoppable.”
“You too,” I whispered, playing with the yellow stole dangling from his shoulders, representing his standing as valedictorian.
He pulled me into a tight hug. “Congratulations.”
“Same, congratulations.” I returned the tight hug, closing my eyes.
Seth appeared behind me, ruffling my hair when we finally pulled away. “Gang’s all graduated now.” I laughed and pushed his hand away from my hair. If Lillian saw the mess he made, I was the one who’d suffer for it.
And then Paxon was there. He didn’t grab me or spin me or ruffle my hair. He just stepped close, taking my hands in his.
“You made it,” he whispered.
“We made it,” I corrected, squeezing his fingers.
It was still hard, but we managed to go on some dates and just talk.
We were slowly getting back on track, even if some days I had to fight against my insecurities, wondering if he was going to disappear on me again.
But it was getting easier each day and Paxon kept promising he wasn’t going anywhere, and proving it too.
He finally pulled me into a gentle hug, tucking his head into that space between my neck and shoulder. He pressed a light kiss against my neck, and I shivered from the touch. I ran my hand through his silky hair and sighed.
This was what I’d been missing for so long. Him. The guys. My family. Friends. Support all around. Proof I wasn’t alone in this world.
Later, when it finally quieted down after ten too many photos, I stood at the edge of the field, watching the wind rustle the leftover programs scattered on the ground. There was a team going through, picking up the litter.
I took in a deep breath until my lungs ached and then slowly blew it out. I had done it.
I survived.
I healed.
I grew.
And I wasn’t alone, not anymore.
The future was still terrifying, still shifting, still unknown. But for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.