A dresser sat directly across from it with a television on top.
While his bedroom used to be riddled with treasures—trophies and ribbons and the blatant evidence of Cash’s goals and dreams—this one felt empty. No football paraphernalia in sight. Barren of any pictures or keepsakes.
My stomach ached when I realized he wouldn’t have any. There was nothing remaining.
The children had all been bathed then I’d come in here and taken a shower in Cash’s big shower, his scent all around. Then I’d changed into a clean pair of black sweats and a fitted white tee.
It would have been relaxing, except in the last thirty minutes, my nerves had rebounded. Hitting me full force.
A head-on collision of my past and my present.
Anxiety blustered through my senses.
All of this had become very real, very fast.
I was in Cash Cunningham’s house.
Freaking Cash Cunningham.
My oldest friend.
My best friend.
Myonlyfriend.
The boy I’d swooned over.
Okay, fine.
Obsessed over, but no one really needed to know the full extent of that.
But it went so much deeper than a simple crush, and in the end, that’s exactly what I’d been.
Crushed.
And now, I’d seen him in the flesh and not just in the dreams and fantasies I had of him over the years.
It should be impossible that the magnitude of those feelings would come rushing back.
But they were all there.
As strong as before. Maybe stronger.
Though they were distorted and disfigured.
Marred by the traumas and the separation.
By the hurt and the rejection.
I needed to remember my broken, lonely heart didn’t count in this situation. Cash was no longer my secret friend who made me feel seen for the first time in my life.
I could only think of him as my children’s saving grace, at least that was what I was praying for, but by his reaction at finding us, I realized my chances were slim to none.
But he was the only chance I had at ensuring they would be taken care of.
Protected.
I had to find a way to convince him.
