When children are born into good families, with good parents, they can afford to stay children for as long as possible, well into adulthood. They rarely learn the meaning of hard work and independence. But when children have no parents, or have shitty parents, they quickly learn to fend for themselves. They are forced to grow up sooner, and be adults while the actual adults are absent or uncaring.
In some ways, I wonder if losing my parents improved me as a person. I might have been an eternal child if they were still around. But now, I know that I cannot afford to build castles in the sand that will be washed away with the tides. I cannot afford to build forts out of sheets and pillows. I cannot afford to waste time.
I need to build something that lasts. I need to build towers that stretch to the sky. I need to build houses that won’t burn down. I need to build a life for myself, because I don’t have someone else’s life to piggyback on.
Staring at Scarlett, I wonder if she feels this way, too. I wonder if she can understand the drive and desperation inside me to establish a foothold here. I think she does.
We barely know each other, but somehow, we need each other.
“Cole!” Scarlett says softly. “Can you keep it down?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I tell her with confusion.
“You’re thinking loud enough to wake up the neighborhood. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? It sounds like there’s a whole construction crew in your brain and they are all drilling and jackhammering and bulldozing.”
“Wow. That’s exactly what it feels like inside my head,” I say in awe. “How can you tell?”
“I am connected. Wirelessly.”
Her voice is cryptic in the darkened room and it gives me a shiver. “What are you talking about?” I ask her with a nervous laugh, wondering if she somehow hacked into my head. But she does not respond. She is already asleep.
“Goodnight, Scar,” I tell her softly.
Read the rest of Sophie’s story!
The Sick Wife Page 23
