Blood or not, any concept of family is quickly fading.
I’m on my own.
28
Aspen
Present
My heart shatters for the man holding me with such tenderness that he was never shown. “I’m so sorry.”
His fingers trace mindless circles on my shoulder as we both lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling. My head is cradled by his arm.
“It is what it is,” he says with zero inflection. Like he’s completely disconnected himself from the entire interaction. Which who could blame him?
I can’t imagine seeking out my birth father and having him treat me like that. Maybe it’s a good thing I never knew who he was and have never cared to find out. Neither my aunt or uncle ever mentioned him, only my mother.
What if that happened to me? What if she called me,not out of desire for some form of connection, but to make sure I never showed up at her doorstep?
I wrap my arm around Reid a little tighter. “That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry it happened. He’s the one who’s missing out.”
Reid’s quiet, caught up in his own memories that he’s clearly used to having repressed. Guilt crawls up my throat for bringing it out of him. But it gives me a better understanding. And it is better for him to process, than to just continue shoving it all down.
Finally, he speaks. “I never wanted to find him. My entire life, I was content without knowing him after my mom told me he wanted nothing to do with us. But when everything went down with the hiatus…it just felt like everyone I loved was leaving me again.” Reid draws in a shaky breath. “And I know I didn’t show it in the right way?—”
“There is no right way, and if there was, no one taught you how to do it.”
“I know, but still, I hurt the people I loved because I was scared of them leaving, and in turn, it only pushed them away more. Isn’t that ironic?” He laughs dryly. “I twisted that fear into anger, then directed it toward them. Toward the ones who didn’t deserve it.”
Regret pours off of him, clouding the air in my bedroom. It twists my gut to hear it in his voice, see it in the stiffness of his body. He’s been living with that regret for so long with no way to properly express it.
“What’s important is that you’re working to make amends now,” I tell him. “And I’m sure if you opened up to them like you did with me, they’d understand.”
He’s silent for a beat, then says, “I wish I never would’ve gone looking for him.”
“Because of how he brushed you off?”
“Because I realized I didn’t need closure from him. I didn’t needanythingfrom him, and it’s not like he would’ve given it to me anyways. The entire thing just affirmed that I’m well and truly on my own in this life.”
My chest seizes violently with my own feelings of loss. Of loneliness. It doesn’t matter how many friendships I forged or goals I set for myself. That loneliness always has a way of creeping back up.
And he’s the only one who gets it.
“You’re not on your own.” My words are a faint whisper as I crane my neck to look at him. “You have me.”
His breathing shudders at my declaration.
I cup his cheek, staring into those dark, tumultuous eyes of his. “I’m not going anywhere.” They’re the words I know he craves to hear and is quick to dismiss to try to protect his heart, so I repeat myself. “Do you understand me, Reid Keely? I’m not goinganywhere. I’m here for you. With you.”
His eyes glisten but he refuses to let any tears fall. I don’t know if I’ll ever see this man cry, if he’ll ever let himself, but I’ll take his shine of emotion to heart.
Voice cracking as he speaks, he covers my hand with his own. “I’m not going anywhere either, Penny.”
And I believe him. I feel the truth of his words in my very bones.
In a world where everyone left us, abandoned us, forgot about us, we found each other. Again.
And now, neither of us have to remember what it’s like to be lonely again.
