Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DELANEY
“ I ’ve got another box for you,” Trace said as he put it down on the kitchen table.
“Ugh, how many of these things are left?” I asked, staring at it in dread.
It had been bad enough unpacking everything from the apartment, but going through all the boxes my father had packed was like going on an emotional rollercoaster every single time.
We’d fallen into a routine over the past couple of weeks where Trace would bring one box inside in the mornings, and I’d spend the day avoiding it and then doing small pieces when I worked up the courage to look inside.
I didn’t know why I was putting it off like I was.
“There’s only two more from the kitchen and then about fifteen from the rest of the house,” he told me with a wince.
This was a never-ending job, and I huffed out a breath like a petulant child as I eyed the box, hating the damn thing for existing.
“I feel like I’ve been doing this for months.”
“Then I’m not even going to point out that it’s only been two weeks.” Trace held up his hands and backed up to the refrigerator before he opened it to grab a water bottle. “I’ve got to head into the office today. I need to have a meeting with my dad about the regeneration project, but I can probably get it out of the way this morning if you want some company at the school this afternoon.”
“You’ve taken way too much time off work for us, Trace. It’s okay if you’ve got stuff to do.”
I loved having him around, and I didn’t even know if he realized that he was slowly moving into the house with us. Every day, Trace headed to his house to grab clean clothes or something he needed, and I was slowly putting it all away in the closet or somewhere else in the house.
We probably needed to talk about it, but I liked having him here. It felt like we’d finally made it to where we were always supposed to be. It also didn’t feel like it counted, not until we sat down and acknowledged it.
“It’s fine. I think after everything, they owe me the time. Anyway, the project is pretty dead in the water now. We need to call it and start looking at other ideas.”
I winced with guilt. The regeneration project wasn’t going ahead because even though we hadn’t talked about it, they couldn’t buy my land now, and it had been the final piece they’d needed to get started.
“It’s fine, Delaney,” Trace said gently. “This is how business goes.”
“It was kind of a stupid idea anyway,” Blake said as she strolled into the kitchen and went straight to the coffee pot. “Why do you want to fill this place with stuffy golf course hotel people, anyway? Don’t you want normal people and families who will actually move here? That’s the whole point, right?”
Trace stared at Blake with his mouth hanging open in surprise. I guess this was something they hadn’t considered. Regenerating the town would only happen through people, not money.
But rather than argue like most people would, Trace leaned back against the refrigerator and crossed his arms while he thought about what she said.
“So, what would you suggest?” he asked, in interest.
“Don’t ask me,” Blake pointed to me. “Ask Delaney. She’s the one with the ideas.”
“What!”
Oh, crap. Yes, we’d talked about this before, but I didn’t want Trace to think we were gossiping behind his back.
He pushed off of the refrigerator and closed the gap between us in two steps, pulling me into his arms as he buried his face against my neck. “Have you been holding out on me?” he asked as he gently ran his lips across my skin.
“Gah! I love you both, but can you be less sickeningly happy in front of me,” Blake declared dramatically before she left the room, cradling her coffee and giggling to herself.
I twisted in Trace’s arms and kissed him softly. “I wasn’t bad-mouthing your ideas.”
“I never thought you were.” He glanced at his watch and swore softly. “Shit, I’ve got to run, but I’d love to hear your ideas later.”
He kissed me quickly and grabbed his coat and briefcase from the kitchen table. “Text me what time you want to meet up, and I’ll clear my calendar for this afternoon,” he shouted over his shoulder as he jogged out the front door.
I was still dreamily staring after him, thinking about how this was exactly how I wanted my life to be, when Blake stepped into my line of vision.
“I like seeing you this happy, Lanes.”
The smile on my lips stretched wider. “I like being this happy too,” I admitted.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t been happy in the city. I think I was just too caught up in what needed to be done every day that I just never gave myself the time to feel. But being here, and having Trace in our lives, everything just felt right.
“I’m heading out with my sketchbook for the day to explore around town and catch some inspiration. Do you and Cade want to join me and show me the sights?”
“Oh, I would have loved to do that, but I’m supposed to be dropping by the school this afternoon. I’ve got some time this morning, though. We could head into town, walk around for a bit before grabbing lunch and then separating off.”
“That sounds great. I’m going to go and give the boy a shove.”
“You know he’s been awake for hours, right?”
“I refuse to believe that I live in a world where people wake up before 8 a.m.,” she shouted as she walked out of the kitchen.
Blake would never have survived an office job. She was lucky she had a huge amount of talent for what she wanted to do. Otherwise, she’d have starved to death long before now. Well, that or had a long, hard shock as she was shoved into the real world.
I shook my head in exasperation, and my eyes caught the dreaded box. Ugh. I guess I could do a bit now and then finish it off after we went to the school this afternoon. I didn’t know why they were insisting we went on a tour. I’d spent years walking those halls.
The cardboard scuffed against the counter as I pulled it toward me and opened the top. It hadn’t been sealed, and as soon as I opened it, I recognized the contents. I’d been looking for this box. It was the one from the counter with the paperwork inside. I was hoping it had some of the tax documents that the lawyer was waiting on.
Instead of rummaging through it at the counter, I carried it over to the kitchen table and sat down. Might as well empty the whole thing out and start making piles of what we needed to keep, file away, and send on to the lawyer. It weirdly made me feel better that my father hadn’t done this bit or that he’d maybe forgotten about it. I didn’t feel quite as useless now that there was something I could do.
It had been kind of him to do as much as he could. I could see it now. In fact, it was exactly what I would have done in his position. He was faced with an impossible prognosis, and he protected me from it for as long as he could. I was always his little girl, and these were the misguided things we did as parents.
As I started to pull out the contents of the box, I frowned because it wasn’t the paperwork I’d assumed it was. Under the binder I’d shoved in, there were photographs of me and Cade, bits and pieces from trips he’d taken over the years to the city. I flipped open the binder to look through it, and my hands froze in shock. This was a chronicle of Cade’s entire life. I didn’t know he’d been doing this.
I opened the binder to the beginning and saw the first entry. Except this one was in the form of a letter. It was from my father, and it was addressed to Trace.
Part of me didn’t want to read it. It wasn’t for me. I didn’t have a right to read this before he did. But my eyes had already grazed the first line, and the implication was so horrifying that I couldn’t stop myself from reading the rest.
Trace,
By the time you see this, you’ll know what we did. What we took from you. There are no apologies that can ever make up for the wrong that I’ve done to you, but I’m going to give them to you anyway.
I had no right to interfere. No right to hide them from you. I’m so very sorry. I have lived with this shame for Cade’s entire life, and I pulled away from them partly through the guilt and partly to punish myself. I had no right to be a part of the lives that I stole from you. I know that won’t make you feel better and that it can never make up for what I did, but I still wanted you to know.
When Chelsea told me that Delaney was pregnant, I knew I needed to do something to protect her from being stuck in this town. It was never about you. I always wanted the very best for my daughter, and I knew if she stayed here with you, she’d never leave. She’d never go to college. She’d never have a chance to see what the world could hold. And in my ill-advised judgment as her father, I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing. That I was giving her a chance to live the life she’d always dreamed of.
I didn’t know about the legal document, and I didn’t know about the check, but that doesn’t remove my culpability. I was just as responsible for what happened as Regina was.
Cade is an amazing kid. Of course, he is. He’s part Delaney and part of you. I know this is all too little, too late, and maybe I’m only doing this now because I have the chance to take the coward’s way out.
I could never face you in life knowing what I’d done.
Please don’t take that out on Delaney or Cade. Love them like you never had the chance to before.
She will never be able to forgive me for what I’ve done. Not that I deserve her forgiveness.
I have no right to ask anything of you, but I’m going to, anyway. Please look after them, Trace. Be the family she needs, the family I never gave her a chance to have.
Barrett
The tears flowed down my cheeks as I started to tear the rest of the things from the box. A baby blanket. A stuffed bear. A tiny baseball glove. I didn’t even remember giving him half of this stuff.
I was shaking my head in denial, my mind not ready to accept the facts in front of me.
He wouldn’t.
Please, please tell me he wouldn’t do this.
My head snapped forward as someone shook me, and by the time my eyes focused, I saw Blake standing in front.
“Delaney, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head. I didn’t have the words to say what I’d found, so I passed her the binder instead. Clinging to my arms like I was trying to hold myself together, I watched her frown as she read the letter I’d found.
“Oh shit,” she softly swore before she looked up at me. “You have to show this to him. He has to know.”
I nodded numbly. What was Trace going to say? How could so many people who claimed to care about us have betrayed us in so many ways? Who else was involved? Who else had known?
“This isn’t your fault,” Blake said softly. “He isn’t going to blame you for this. You are just as much of a victim in this as he is.”
I didn’t know if I agreed with her, but I nodded anyway, grateful for the numb feeling that was taking me over. I didn’t want to feel this. Not now. Not so soon after the funeral.
The sound of Cade’s feet thumping down the stairs suddenly punctuated the air, and I quickly swiped at the tears on my face as Blake closed the binder and started to pack the contents of the box away again.
“I’m ready!” he shouted as he burst into the kitchen.
“You don’t even have your shoes on,” Blake said, a hint of nervousness lining her voice as I moved to the sink, pretending to clean around it.
“You go grab your shoes, monkey. In fact, put your boots on. It might be muddy where we’re going.” My voice cracked with the tears I was desperately trying to hold inside, but Cade either didn’t notice or was good enough not to point it out.
“Sure thing!”
I heard him run out of the kitchen and sagged forward, clasping the sides of the sink like it would somehow keep me upright. I could do this. I just had to pull myself together. Smile like I always do and then fall apart later.
Blake’s hand came to my shoulder in support. “I can take him with me and make an excuse for you to stay behind if you want. Buy you some time to deal with this.”
“No,” I quickly said. “No. This is important. I’ll be okay.”
“Anytime you need it, give me a signal, and I’ll distract him. If you want to come home at any point, it will be fine. I can keep Cade with me.”
I could do this. I would do this. It was just a few hours of pretending to be normal. Then I’d have to face Trace and tell him the truth. Tell him the terrible, honest truth that there was one more person to add to the list of those who had betrayed us.
My father had been right about one thing. I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him for this.