Too bad, asshole, you did this to yourself.
And then, as if the universe hadn’t punished me enough, someone passed behind us.
“Whore,” they muttered, not even subtle.
Another voice followed, louder this time, sharp and cutting: “Homewrecker.”
The words landed like physical blows.
I stood frozen, holding onto Jackson’s hand tighter than I probably should have.My vision blurred, the cold air suddenly too thin, too sharp, every breath scraping down my throat.I blinked fast, refusing to let the tears fall here.Not in front of Jackson.Not in front of Andrew.
Andrew turned toward the strangers, his expression darkening.“Watch your fucking mouth,” he snapped, loud enough to draw attention.
That only made it worse.Heads turned.Eyes landed on me.I felt every one of them, like heat against my skin, branding me with their judgment.
Jackson tugged at my sleeve.“Aunt Cass?What’s a homewrecker?”
My chest caved, my throat tightening until it was hard to speak.How do you explain to a child that adults ruin each other with lies and labels?“Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart,” I managed, somehow keeping my voice steady.
Andrew stepped closer, too close.“Cassidy...”
“No.”My voice cracked, but I stood my ground.“We’re done.Go home, Andrew.”
He shook his head, slow and deliberate, like I was the one being unreasonable.Like I was in the wrong.“You can’t run from me.You can’t run from this.”His voice lowered again, raw now, almost pleading.“Fromus.”
And then, behind him, I heard Max’s small voice: “Dad?What does that mean?”
Something inside me splintered.
I turned without another word, pulling Jackson with me, forcing my feet to move even though my legs felt like they might give out.My whole body was trembling by the time I got him into the car, my fingers clumsy on the seatbelt buckle.
I gripped the steering wheel tight, forcing myself to breathe, forcing myself to keep it together for the little boy humming softly in the seat behind me, oblivious to the shards of my world around us.
Back home, Jackson bounded inside ahead of me, already yelling for his mom.“Aunt Cass cried today,” he announced, oblivious to the way the room stilled.“Some mean people said bad stuff to her.And Mr.Brooks wanted to have a playdate, but Aunt Cass said no.”
The quiet that followed was deafening.
Clara reached for me immediately, but I stepped back.“I can’t...please, don’t.”
“Cassidy,” Mom started softly, but I cut her off, shaking my head hard.
“I need to go home.”
Her brow furrowed, confusion flashing in her eyes.“Sweetheart, youarehome.Stay.Just stay.We will talk this through and fix this.”
“I can’t.I don't know that this can be fixed.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to argue.I turned, ignoring their voices calling after me, and walked out the front door.
By the time the cold air hit my face, I was already running.
Chapter 23
By the time I got home, I felt wrung out, like someone had stripped me down to nerves and bone.My chest still ached from holding myself together all day, and my head was pounding with everything I was trying, and failing, not to think about.
The cold cut deep as I crossed the parking lot, sharp enough to sting the inside of my nose.My fingers were stiff by the time I pulled my keys out.I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, bury myself in blankets, and shut out the world for just one goddamn night.
But then I saw the shadow near my door.
