“No! Fuck that! You know he can’t call you that. You know! That’s mine, Bug. Mine!” I tear my misty focus away from Cady’s and set my sights on Blaine. “And what the hell are you even doing here? This is family breakfast. You aren’t family. You’ll never be family. You’re just a fucking stand-in, and everyone in this room knows it. Even her.”
“Ben!” Jake’s deep voice bellows over mine, and I nearly cringe at the finality of it. “That’s enough.”
“I’m just speaking the fucking truth! If you knew what she did…if you just—”
“Ben, honey, maybe you should just step outside for a minute. Go take a walk. Catch your breath.”
Mom’s voice rings out calmly, but no less threatening than Jake’s. I look around the room and everyone is staring at me like I’m fucking insane. And maybe I am. But I’m not the bad guy here. Not today. Not this time. I love my family, but fuck them for not seeing it. I shake my head and let out a dry chuckle. I find Cady again. She’s out of Blaine’s grasp but still far too close for my liking. Tears are seconds away from falling down her pinched face. She looks tired. Drained. Sad. Really fucking sad. She looks…like she did that morning. Which doesn’t make sense because she hurt me this time. And yet, here she is, giving me a look, one single look with those undeniable doe eyes behind her big adorkable glasses and trembling bottom lip that makes all the fight and anger completely vanish from my body. My shoulders drop. I exhale, turn on my heel, and walk out of the kitchen. Alone and shut the fuck down.
Happy Sunday Fun-day.
***
I make it to the hallway before I hear steps behind me. I know it’s her. She has a little skip to her step. Even when she’s furthest from feeling happy, her feet always are.
I fling open the front door and step out onto the wide porch. Summer rain is pelting down heavily out here, a few steps beyond my reach. I hear the door slam behind me and spin around to find the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen staring at me like she has no idea whether to hit me, hug me, or run away from me again.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Oh, no she didn’t. Now it’s my turn to glare at her as if she lost her damn mind.
“What the hell is wrong with me? Are you fucking serious right now?” My words are convulsing with ire.
“You’re acting like a crazy person!”
“Because you’re making me crazy! Goddamn it Cady!” I growl before advancing on her so quickly I don’t realize what I’m doing until I have her luscious body pinned against the door and her soft curves are flush with mine. I take a deep breath—a poor attempt to quell the frustration brooding inside me—but it only makes matter worse once her scent travels through my nose, overriding all common sense. Fucking Christmas. With shaky hands, I cup her cheek, forcing her eyes to meet mine—to see the torment raging within them. I don’t recognize my voice once I speak. It’s barely a whisper, gritted out through gravel and insecurity.
“I was inside of you last night. Repeatedly. You gave me a part of you that can never be taken back, and I am so fucking grateful, Cady, so thankful you gave me that honor. Last night was—there are so many words and ways to describe it, but none of them seem good enough. It was everything. It. Was. Fucking. Everything. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I never knew it could be like that—so all-consuming. It was like there was nothing else in the world in those moments. No Blaine. No mistakes. Nothing else mattered. It was just us, and it was perfect, Cady. Unreal. Motherfucking unreal. I thought you felt it, too—”
“I did!” Cady pleads, her eyes wild. “I felt it, please don’t think that I didn’t. I did, okay?”
“Then why’d you run? Why’d you leave me in bed like I was just a one-off, meaningless lay?”
“Because I felt too much!” she yells at me, and I take a step back from the impact, my hands dropping from her face as the desperation in her voice lances my pathetic heart. “It was too much. Too fast. It was like every single shitty moment from last year, every warring emotion I felt along with them came bubbling to the surface, and I saw you lying there next to me and I just—I panicked. I fucking panicked, and I was so…”
Her voice cracks and her eyes snap shut. I move right back into her space, crowding her as she shakes her head vehemently.
“You were so what? Cady?”
She exhales deeply and opens her eyes—the bright blue never ceasing to nearly knock me on my ass and render me speechless. Even when they’re sad.
I reach out with the pad of my thumb and capture a tear escaping down her cheek and she shivers against me.
“Terrified,” she whispers. “I was so fucking terrified.”
“Why? Of me?” I ask, confused and taken aback. My eyebrows are furrowed so close together, they’re almost touching.
“No. Yes. Maybe? I tried so hard to hate you. I wanted to hate you so fucking badly. And for a while, I thought I actually managed to do it. It was easier when you were gone. To believe you didn’t matter to me anymore, that you had zero effect on me. But the moment you came back, I knew it was all bullshit. There’s no getting over you, Ben. No forgetting you. No un-loving you. You’re ingrained in me so deeply, I can’t shake you off. This thing, this—”
“Love.”
“It’s too strong. Wild and unforgiving. There’s no safety net. You don’t know the power you have over me. The way I feel for you…if we did this, gave us a chance and you hurt me like you did before—”
“Baby, I will never hurt you again. I promise you. I’m done. I swear.” I implore, still cupping her face, forcing her eyes to find the truth in mine.
“That’s not something you can promise, Ben!”
“Like hell I can’t! Do you trust me?”
Cady doesn’t say a word, just stares into my eyes that are silently pleading for her to give me the answer I need to hear.
“I don’t know.”
She whispers the words between us, and it’s as if she just slapped me so hard, I can feel the sting all over my body. My hands fall from her face and I take two steps back, turning away from her, wondering just how long I’ll be able to stand here with my heart pitifully flopping like a caught fish on the newly-stained porch.
Fuck, this hurts.
“Is this how it felt?”
I turn back around as I ask the question. I scrub an invisible spot on my chest, wincing away the emotion budding inside me, knowing I’m about to break any fucking second, but I need to know the answer. She stares at me in confusion, so I try again.
“That morning…when you found Lucy and I…is this how it felt?”
I can see the moment she understands. She blanches at the memory before looking down at her mismatched flip flops and taking a single breath before bringing her eyes back to mine, more tears coating her long lashes.
“How does it feel?” she whispers softly, and I hear the pain harboring within her still, clear in her voice.
“Like you just sliced me open, ripped my heart out, and threw it in the dumpster behind Frank’s Noodle House.”
“Then yeah, that’s exactly how it felt.”
The sound of her voice, so hurt, timid, scarred because of me—well, it’s my undoing. The anger that has eaten at me all day—over her and that asshole sitting in my parents’ house—just evaporates into thin air and my beat-up heart along with it.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Cady.” She takes the two steps between us and wraps her tiny arms around my waist, holding me up as I begin to fall.
“I know, Ben,” she whispers into my chest. “I know.”
“But it’s not enough, is it? Not enough to trust me. To forgive me? To…be with me?” I ask the questions that need to be asked, even though I already know the answers. Apparently, I love a good swift kick to the nuts when I’m already down.
“I don’t know,” she whispers again, and it’s exactly what I thought she would say. What I was afraid she would say. What I hoped like hell she wouldn’t say. It
’s the final blow to my heart. I’m done. Down for the fucking count.
I close my eyes and breathe her in one last time before untangling her arms from my body.
“Fuck, I can’t be here right now.”
“I don’t want you to leave like this. We need to figure this out!” Cady’s voice is small and panicked.
“No, you need to figure this out. I don’t need to figure out anything. I know what I want.”
I turn away from her and walk down the front steps. Rain still pours from the overcast sky, drenching me in seconds. It’s lukewarm and welcoming, cleansing. Inhaling the humid air, I keep my focus on the droplets pelting heavily onto the pavement. Looking anywhere but at the girl standing behind me, cradling my fucking heart in her hands.
“Will you be home later?” Her voice cracks, almost enough to snap my resolve. But I hold strong. My self-preservation is in top form right now.
“I don’t know.”
I throw her words back at her because I’m a dick and I’m hurting and I’m fucking terrified that we both fucked this up beyond repair. So, I do what she does best. I leave her standing there without another word or backwards glance, and I fucking run. Literally. Until my clothes are soaked completely through, my muscles ache, and I’m in dire need of a bottle (or three) of water. And then I run a little bit more, far away from her and the nagging, horrifying feeling that she’ll never catch up.
Thirty-seven
Songs to listen to:
“Tether” by Chvrches
“She’s Thunderstorms” by Artic Monkeys
“Hurt” by Christina Aguilera
“Issues” by Julia Michaels
“Wildfire” by Demi Lovato
Cady
Don’t go.
You’re enough.
I trust you.
I love you.
Those are the words I should’ve said. Those are the words that died in my throat, too damn scary to be voiced out loud. Mother-effing effer, Cady!
My heart aches to chase after Ben, but my feet stay planted on this damn porch and I seriously want to fucking punch myself in the vagina for not being able to say the words he needed to hear. I watch Ben run away from me as fast as he can, and I can’t help but feel like I just lost him for a second time. Only this time, it’s on me.
I’m a fucking a coward. Fucking self-preservation bullshit.
I watch him run through the rain that smells exactly like him, only less intoxicating. He doesn’t stop, just keeps pounding the pavement until I can’t see him anymore.
I feel numb. Cold and so damn confused. I feel like my brain is scrambling, trying to catch up to my heart, to finally listen to what it’s been rambling on about for months now, but my brain is still a few centimeters short.
“You all right, Bug?”
The sound of my Dad’s voice startles me. I turn my head in his direction, and our matching blue eyes connect. Without a single thought, I walk straight into his awaiting arms, instantly crumbling against his embrace. He holds me tight as I sob into his plain white tee—undoubtedly marring it with my snot, but he doesn’t give a single eff because he’s my dad and he’s fucking amazing.
After what feels like forever, my tears finally dry up and my boogers stop trying to evacuate my nostrils. I look up at him through swollen eyes and he gives me a small, crooked smile that seems to be the standard for all of the men in this endearing yet warped as hell family. I blow out a huge puff of air before asking him the million-dollar question.
“How did you know it was time to forgive Mom?”
“Damn, going in for the kill, huh?”
“Sorry,” I wince. “I just…this is so fucked, Dad. It’s like every part of me is at war. I don’t know how to feel or what to feel or if it’s okay to feel what I think I’m feeling. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know if I can do what I need to do. I—”
“Do you love him?”
He doesn’t need to say Ben’s name. I know he isn’t talking about Blaine.
“I’ve never stopped. Through it all, I never stopped loving him for a single second. It’s always been him.”
He nods as if he already knew the answer.
And he probably did.
They all do.
“When your mom and I split, I thought that was it. That my heart was done for. That it would never repair itself, never find its way back into my chest. But then I met Angel. She picked up every single fucking piece and made it whole again. She showed me what it really meant to love someone with every fiber of your being, with every inch of your soul, every beat of your heart. And once I let go of the anger, soothed the sting of betrayal and looked past the wounded pride, I could see how happy Jake made your mom. Happier than I had ever seen her, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.
“I love your mom, I love her in a way that I will never love anyone—she’s kind of extraordinary like that. It’s a love that defies all reason—doesn’t really make sense. I forgave her because I couldn’t not forgive her. Above everything, she was my best friend, and the thought of losing that bond was worse than any form of betrayal. I forgave her because I couldn’t lose her in my life. Where Angel is my entire world, Evangeline Moretti is my sunny day in December. What is Ben to you, Bug? Can you live your best life without him in it? Can you watch him find love with someone else and be happy for him? Or will letting him go mean allowing your pride and your worries to supersede what’s in your heart? Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do or how to feel. You know, Bug. You’ve known since you were six years old. Don’t let misguided, childish mistakes from the past dictate your future. He knows he fucked up. I’m not going to tell you that he won’t fuck up again, because he will. He’s related to Jake, it’s inevitable. But I know that boy will never hurt you like that again. He understands the consequences. He’s lived through them for a year. Plus, I may have showed him my vast collection of baseball bats and the many ways I know how to use them.”
“And what about Blaine? He’s a good guy, Dad. One of the greatest.”
“He is. Which means he deserves to be with someone who not only knows his worth, but values it. He needs someone who is all in, with both feet. You’ve barely got a toe in, Bug.”
I amble over to the turquoise Adirondack chairs that sit in front of the large bay window, plop my big ass down on one and take in Dad’s words.
He’s right. Blaine deserves so much more than what I’ve been giving him. He deserves love, real, overwhelming, honest to goddess love.
The front door opens to my left. My eyes follow the sound and are met with Blaine’s hazel irises. I wish I couldn’t read them, but the look on his face speaks louder than words.
“I’ll let you two talk,” Dad says, planting a kiss on my forehead before walking toward the door. He clasps Blaine’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze as he leaves us alone on this balmy mind-fuck of a Sunday morning. I watch, silently, as Blaine moves over to the chair next to me. He stares off into the distance, laser focused on the rain bucketing down heavily in front of us.
“How much of that did you hear?” I ask, hoping he didn’t hear a thing but knowing I’m not that lucky.
“Enough to know I shouldn’t be here anymore.”
My heart drops to my stomach and a profound grimace takes hold of my face. “I’m so sorry, Blaine.”
He scrubs his face and heaves a sigh into the warm space between us. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see it coming. You’re an amazing girl, Cady. Beautiful, funny, and creative, but you’re a shitty actress. The moment he came back, I saw it. Felt it. That thing, that connection that I thought we had, I obviously know now I was sorely mistaken.”
He stands up and just as I do the same, and pulls me into his arms. I rest my splotchy face against his soft cotton t-shirt, breathing in his comfort, even though I know I don’t deserve it. But I take it anyway because I’m selfish and honestly, I’m going to miss this. This feeling o
f safety and ease in his warm embrace. He’s such a good guy.
“Fuck, Blaine. You have no idea how I wish things were different. How I wish it was you. How much I wanted it to be.”
“I know. Me too. But your dad’s right. I deserve better. I deserve more. I deserve real. And so do you.” He pulls me in tighter before dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “Make sure he treats you right, okay? And if it doesn’t work out—”
“You’ll be the first person I call.” That earns me a smile. It’s small and sad, but it’s a smile.
“I’ll see you around, Bug,” Blaine whispers in my mess of curls and for the first time, his usage of my nickname doesn’t bother me. It just makes me feel sad.
He pulls away and I watch yet another man walk away from me in the span of twenty minutes.
Great job, Cady. Bravo. Asshole.
I run my hand over my face, trying to scrub away the royal failure that was this morning. My eyes are swollen and undoubtedly red and bloodshot. Cheeks feel puffy, and my bottom lip is sore from the amount of times I’ve chewed on it nervously. I sit back into the chair and draw my knees to my chest, clutching them closely, needing the ruse of comfort they give. I lay my head on top and watch the rain fall, inhaling the earthy petrichor, stewing in the silence while wading through the feverish thoughts swimming through my pounding head.
Three minutes.
It takes me three minutes to truly see the depth of my stupidity. It’s vast. And another three minutes to figure out exactly what I need to do. Which is something I should have done the moment Ben came home. The very second that damn spark lit up, instead of dragging out the inevitable for a month and hurting people in the process. Again, stupid. So fucking stupid.
Three more minutes to realize I’m sitting on my ass and wasting precious time.
I scramble off the chair and run toward the front door, which flings open just as my hand touches the knob. I nearly fall head-first into the foyer, but strong hands defuse my clumsiness. I stand up and right myself before smiling gratefully at my step-dad.
Falling Over (Falling In Series Book 3) Page 35
