Page 65 of Snowed In With


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“For me? But I didn’t?—”

“Jesus, Char.” I shake my head, smiling. “You being here is the best gift you could’ve given me.”

She opens the little blue velvet box slowly, eyes widening when the light hits the delicate gold chain. A tiny, colorful gemstone chameleon dangles from it. Before I can say another word, she launches herself at me, knocking me backward with a sound of utter joy that steals every thought from my head. “Thank you,” she breathes against my lips.

“I love you.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Is it too soon?” My voice catches. Jesus. I hope I haven’t scared her off all over again. The words escaped my lips before I could think better of it. “I swore I’d never keep anything from you again, so?—”

She kisses me before I can finish, her hands tangled in my hair.

Later, once we’re curled on the couch under a blanket, Char goes eerily quiet. “I can’t go back to Florida,” she says finally. “I had to leave everything behind.”

My body stiffens, but I try to keep my breathing steady and force myself to relax. This feels like the moment that will change everything. Trusting me enough to share what she’s held so tight. I can’t react in a way that will cause her to retreat.

From here on out, she has to know she can trust me with all of it. Her fears, her dreams… her life.

Giving her a soft kiss on her temple, I remind myself to stay quiet. Allow her to share in her own way, regardless of any emotions churning within me. It’s imperative to show her I’m her safe harbor in every storm.

“Leaving was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but that’s the way my life has been. Always looking over my shoulder, then running when the threat of danger feels near.” She grows quiet. I hope the pounding of my uneasy heartbeat isn’t distracting her. “I found a note on my car. They’d found me.”

For the briefest of moments, my heart stops beating.

Who found her? And why were they looking?

“There’s still a lot I can’t fully piece together.” She takes a steely breath. “When I was seventeen, I found myself on a dirty gas station bathroom floor, beaten and confused. I had no idea how I’d gotten there or how it had happened.”

It’s taking strength beyond anything I’ve needed on the job to keep my tense muscles unwound. She’s barely started sharing her story, and I already want to kill someone.

“Growing up with my mother wasn’t easy. I was a constant reminder of the man who left her pregnant and alone. It’s a mystery to me why she kept me. She reminded me of this almost daily.” Her words come out emotionless. As if she’s been so hardened by the one person who should’ve cared most for her that this fact is merely part of her DNA. “Some days I came and went without any acknowledgment. It was never true neglect like a lot of kids face, but I learned to fend for myself pretty early. Her abuse was more emotional than physical.”

My mind drifts tomymother and the incredible life she provided for me. There was never a day I wanted for anything. And knowing the sadistic web my father was weaving years before he actually left, this was no small feat. But Char had to endure the opposite. This wild, spirited woman had to grow up feeling unwanted and alone.

“When I saw the black eye and busted lip in the mirror, I immediately knew she’d snapped. That all of the years of verbal rage had now turned physically violent.”

I feel like I’m going to throw up. How any parent can hurt their own child physically is beyond me. But this sweet girl?Slow, steady breaths, Dave. Let her share this without exploding like an unhinged neanderthal.

“I’m not sure what transpired between the gas station and the hospital. I woke up later, and my school guidance counselor was sitting in the chair beside me. She always made me feel she was actually invested in my future. I must’ve had her phone number when someone discovered me. Thankfully, I was able to share my suspicions with her before anyone contacted my mother. Later, the police came to question me, but the details were so sketchy. Like trying to look for puzzle pieces in the fog.”

She shifts within my arms, burrowing closer into my side. Knowing she’s turning toward me and not away is all the reassurance I need to keep my emotions in check. “The doctors said I had a pretty severe concussion. That the memories might come back. But they might not. It was a wait and see type of situation.”

I watch as she wrings her hands in my shirt. “They ran a lot of tests, and thankfully, I hadn’t suffered any permanent damage. Well, beyond the questions of my memory returning. And the realization my life would never be the same.”

The weight of her own words must cause her to return to that horrific time. After a few moments of heavy silence, she begins again. “It was almost immediate that they placed police outside my door. I was so grateful. But the fear was now a living, breathing part of me. Every time the door would open, and any member of the hospital staff would walk in, I’d startle, then cower.” Imagining how frightened she must have been makes my chest ache.

“After about a week, little snippets started returning.” Her body starts to tremble, and I immediately tighten my grip on her. “I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.”

Alarm bells start going off.

“My mother had been hateful for so long, I’d learned to tune out much of the verbiage she used. She was so angry and insecure. It was all variations of the same thing. I should be grateful I had her. Howgreat her life could’ve been if she hadn’t been saddled with me. You’ve been taking things that don’t belong to you your whole life. Stop swishing your hips around my husband. You’re trying to wrap him around your little finger.” Char’s trembling has turned to a full-on quake now.

Kissing the top of her head. I hold her tight with one arm while stroking her hair with the other.

“My stepfather had left on a business trip without her. She was really upset. I’m sure deep down she suspected he had other women. I mean, how can you be that paranoid and unsteady and not allow those thoughts to enter your mind? So, she took it out on the one person who was always at her disposal.” She grows quiet.

My pulse is thrumming in my ears so loudly I’m praying I don’t miss something.