My mom and I baked homemade bread using that kitchen counter countless times.
My dad taught me how to swim in the lake outside.
This was our family’s vacation cabin for years. My home away from home.
And for some unknown, objectively idiotic reason, I thought I could handle staying the night here with him. It’s been so long since I last thought about this place that I assumed I had moved on. I thought wrong.
Foolish.I should’ve known I’d never be strong enough, even to face something minuscule like this.
Coward.
My strength isn’t real. It’s a facade. Just like the relationship I’m building with the angel upstairs. How could he care for someone like me?
I gaze down at the original warm oak wooden flooring.
At first, the memories fall gently like rain. I catch myself nearly smiling at the innocence in them.
Then, without warning, the memories begin crashing against me harder, hitting me like a riptide; they pull me under and drown me without reprieve.
Coward.
Suddenly, I’m crashing to the floor, squeezing my eyes shut and trembling.
I can’t let him see me like this. He’ll leave again.
“Cleo, you’ve got to see—” His voice cuts off. Before I can even turn my head in his direction, he’s on the floor with me, kneeling before me, grasping my shoulders with both hands. I keep my eyes sealed shut.
I can’t believe this.
I’ve never cried in front of anyone outside my family. Ever. What horrible timing.
I’ve cried a handful of times, and a majority of those times, I was utterly alone.
“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. I’m with you.”
As he’s stroking my cheeks delicately, it hits me.
I’m not alone anymore.
But as much as I want to believe him, my mind won’t stop chanting:this isn’t real.
“Kai, I’m f-fine. Seriously.” I shrug him off and open my eyes, making sure to look into his eyes despite the burning sensation. I work hard to control my trembling. Instead of releasing my shoulders like I expect, he pulls me into him, cradling me in his arms.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not letting go of you, little angel.” His voice rumbles as he runs his hand through my damp hair, pulling my head deeper into his chest. “Unless you want me to.”
I can’t make sense of much right now, but he’s warm. So warm.
“Stay,” I whisper so softly it’s barely audible.
Then, and only then, do I let the tears fall freely.
“This place just triggers a lot of memories for me,” I mumble into his chest. “I thought I could handle this, but it’s all so overwhelming.”
He strokes my back soothingly and kisses my forehead. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“But you left me.” I open my eyes slowly and crane my neck to look up at him. “You left without a word.” I ask, tears streaming down my cheeks. The tears are warmer than I expected. It’s been so long since I let myself cry that it feels foreign to me.
As he tilts his head, a sobering look crosses his face. With his brows drawn, he stares back into my eyes, then cups my neck in his hands.
